AVATAR
by Doxiesrcool
Summary: Lonliness drives Harper to endanger the crew and the Andromeda. COMPLETE!
1. Default Chapter

Rated: PG-13 Disclaimer: Andromeda is the property of Tribune. The author has only borrowed them. Author's note: Thank you kindly to my beta readers: Kathy-for your honest and deep critique, David, Techfreak Ziana, Owl and Dee Dee. Great job all of you!  
  
Season One, between Harper 2.0 and Star Crossed.  
  
This story originally appeared in the print fanzine: Tales From the Slipstream by Chaos Unlimited. It is still available from them. I'd list the website address, but can't get it to load to ff.net correctly.  
  
**This version has been slightly modified from the printed form.**  
  
Avatar  
  
By Anna McLain  
  
Chapter One  
  
"Desire is a double-edged sword."  
--Unknown  
  
He gritted his teeth and tried not to leap across the table and throttle her.  
  
"You know, Trance," he snipped, "it just isn't worth it anymore and I got work to do, as usual. Oh, look! Harper the invaluable genius engineer and weak systemed human has more work than anyone else on this boat including all robots and aliens." He turned his back on her, hunching over his work table. The air filled with the high-pitched buzz of an electronic screwdriver. The sound echoed and reverberated in the cavernous machine shop.  
  
Indignant that he'd turn away from her in a huff, she stared at the worn back of his baggy pale blue shirt--the one she liked so much because it made his blue eyes seem iridescent. Hands on hips, she snapped, "Seamus Harper, don't you take that tone with me. I'm your friend, your best friend and I want to know what's wrong! You've been locked in here for twenty-four hours muttering to yourself and playing with your whatsits." A dark violet flush crept over her plum features. Her nostrils flared and her mauve painted lips thinned in anger. She waved a delicate, dismissive hand at the pile of wires, metal parts and tools, glaring at the young man with wide, dark eyes. She grabbed up something shiny from the tabletop, her expression softening into sadness. "You even broke your medallion." She held up the small gold St. Christopher's medallion that he sometimes wore, allowing it to twist on its delicate chain. A chip and scratch on the surface twinkled as they caught the light. "You said your mother gave it to you."  
  
He snatched it away without looking at her face, fastening it around his neck with fingers that trembled in annoyance. He wanted to be alone to finish his work. He wasn't in the mood for chitchat. She was supposed to be so damned perceptive, yet she so was clueless. "It isn't broken. I just took it off so it wouldn't get messy."  
  
"It wouldn't get messy if you'd get some sleep like you're supposed to. And Rommie told me you have a whole list of repairs to make to the ship and yet here you are playing around." She gave him a gentle shove with her tail, half-playful, half-serious, obviously trying to get him to lighten up.  
  
He tossed down his screwdriver in frustration, shoving aside the circuitry he was working on. Anger flashed wickedly in his blue eyes as he whirled on her, struggling to rein in his temper. "Trance, look, babe, it's none of your--"  
  
"None of my business?" she snapped, tossing him a withering look, her deep patience shattered.  
  
He flinched. She seemed really pissed. She might even slap him with her tail. He didn't want that. It hurt. It also hurt that she was mad at him. She was his best friend. The only one onboard he trusted implicitly. Why couldn't she just let him work in peace? With a sigh, he gave her his most apologetic puppy dog look.  
  
"Hey, come-on, you know me. I get a one-track mind when I fix things. I'm just..." his words faltered. He wasn't sure what he was doing. He just knew he wanted to be alone to do it. He didn't want to piss off his best friend in the tri-galaxies.  
  
With one eyebrow raised regally, she fixed him with an unflinching stare. "Just trying to make yourself sick again? Trying to compensate for being lonely? Trying to get over Beka calling you a goofy-looking kid who couldn't get a date if he ran around naked? Trying to get over Tyr laughing about it? Did he insult your...what is it? Manhood?"  
  
He winced and looked away, studying the contents of the room. Anything was better than her wrath, particularly, since her words were true. He hated that. Somehow, Trance was always right when it came to him. She told him it was luck. He didn't believe her. Luck never followed him around. People made their own luck, and she was very good at it.  
  
Finally, he met her gaze with flashing blue eyes. A storm of anger battered him. He gritted his teeth and growled, "And there's something wrong with that?"  
  
"Nope." She smiled, lopsidedly. Her large dark eyes twinkled with humor as she realized she'd finally gotten to him. "You're just being human. And you don't have to be an Uber to be a man." She gave him that look that said he was cute when he was angry, but she would tire of it quickly. A guy's looks could only get him so far.  
  
He gaped at her. After a long moment, he visibly relaxed and his shoulders slumped. "It's just that...sheesh, it's been so long, Trance, since a woman has wanted to be with me. To talk seriously to me. To...to treat me like a man. Y'know what I mean? Geez, I can't even say it!" He took a deep, wavering breath. "I can't even remember the last woman's face...my last lover's face. It's been so long, Trance," his voice broke on the last sentence, his face anguished. "I hate that! I hate not being able to remember. It's so...mean, so humiliating. And there's the rest, I mean, we go to a new crummy backwater drift every couple of months that's just teeming with people and I still can't get a date. I'm just...so lonely. It really bites! All I have is my work."  
  
"That's not all," she whispered too softly for him to hear.  
  
"Well, it ain't me! I'm not doing anything wrong. I just ain't good at that emotional, sippy-sappy soft guy crap." Snatching up his screwdriver, he continued to work. Work was one thing he loved. This project would at least alleviate some of the apathy he'd been feeling of late. After a moment, he let his hand rest on the counter and stared off into space. "You don't think I'm goofy-looking, do you, Trance?" he said softly.  
  
With a gentle smile she reached out and slipped an arm around his shoulders, resting her chin on his shoulder. She sighed deeply. He smelled of sweat and smoke and metallic things. Her insides quivered. "I think you have beautiful blue eyes and wild dirty blonde hair and you're adorably cute."  
  
"Cute. Terrific. Puppies are cute. Teddy Bears are cute. Cute is the kiss of death." He shrugged off her touch. "I've been cute to too many people. I want someone to think I'm gorgeous, to appreciate my expertise. I got work to do. Bye, Trance."  
  
Stung, she backed away, watching him work. He could change so quickly, his inner demon snapping out to claw anyone who truly came near him. At the door, she turned back for one last look at him feverishly connecting wires to a small computer board. "You're just asking the wrong people," she murmured.  
  
He worked until he lost track of time, until his anger faded. So, she thought he was 'cute?' Cute was for babies and puppies, not men. With a loud sigh, he tweaked the last wire on his creation and flipped the switch. The still air before him sparkled as a hidden projector scrambled protons, rearranged them and formed an image. A group of four men in bright colored costumes materialized. The air immediately shook with the slicing high- pitched cord from an electric guitar. Glass and metal on the table danced. The metallic ceiling buzzed.  
  
A wide smile split the talented engineer's young face. He instantly forgot his fight with Trance. "Too cool!" he said, his words devoured by the din.  
  
***  
  
He was at it again and it drove Beka Valentine crazy. The walls trembled and pictures rattled in time to the racket he called music, making it impossible for her to delve between the lines of her new flexi-novel, the one she desperately wanted to lose herself in. Even her job as First Officer of the Andromeda Ascendant didn't guarantee her privacy. She didn't have many luxuries. She'd gone through Hell to procure and hide this novel. That treacherous Perseid pirate had demanded double price to keep his mouth shut about selling it to her or else he'd blab to her crew and embarrass her. She even had to keep it carefully stowed inside her pants lest Dylan's roving eyes spot it as she smuggled it aboard. He said he didn't watch his new crewmembers, but as a Captain herself, she was certain he did. She would. Ordering Andromeda to give her Full Privacy Mode and locking the door was cause enough for suspicion from her crewmates if they found out.  
  
Harper was not going to rob her of the moment with a migraine. Briefly, she asked herself if it was worth all the trouble over a flexi-novel. Yes, it was, she decided. She had a reputation to maintain. She was tough, crafty, capable--not a girly-girl who read romance stories. She just wasn't the lace and roses type. Still, she wanted to read this book. She needed to read this book. She'd already become addicted to the first chapter of "The Sword of Desire" and felt compelled to read the rest. This novel had to compensate for her non-existent love life. Frell, it was compensating for her non-existent love life. A girl could only live with her own memories for so long.  
  
Struggling to ignore the screeching electric guitars, she began to read:  
  
* "Perdue cleaned the twinkling turquoise pool, slipping the metal scrubbing rod along the bottom with practiced ease and slow, strong, sensuous, strokes. Amelia licked lips suddenly dry, gaze locked on the seat of his jeans, pulled taut by well-defined muscles that tightened and flexed with each fluid movement, with the sinewy strength of a wild animal in full flight. A rush of heat rushed south and she shifted in her chair to ease the suddenly itch. The sun glinted from his bare chiseled chest, dotted with glistening drops of fresh sweat. A trickle of hot sweat ran between her heaving-"*  
  
Harper's screaming cacophony sliced into Beka's temples. Wincing and gritting her teeth, she slapped the flexi-novel down on her rumpled purple polka dot bedclothes, stomped out of her quarters and down the hall. The passageway reverberated with sharp electric notes. Instantly, her head began to throb.  
  
She stomped to the loudest point: Engineer Seamus Harper's door. She pounded. There was no answer. The music was too loud. She cursed in Vedran and Than and beat the door in time with the hoofbeats of pain in her head.  
  
Just as her fist began to ache, sending sharp stabs of pain up to her elbow, the ship's avatar strolled up casually. Rommie stopped and cocked her head, puppy-style, at the First Officer.  
  
"I've been informed there's a sound problem," Rommie shouted over the din, showing no sign that the music actually bothered her. Her expression was simply curious. She was still new to her avatar form and unaccustomed to the comforts and discomforts human emotions or the ability to feel arrant breezes brought with it.  
  
"Huh?" Beka shouted, unable to hear the avatar. "It's noise pollution!"  
  
Rommie frowned, pointing to her ear. The First Officer's voice was devoured by the cacophony.  
  
With an angry scowl, Beka covered her ears and motioned toward the door. The avatar looked at it and it promptly opened.  
  
Harper whirled around with a start. His eyes widened guiltily. Quickly, he masked the expression with his trademark cocky lopsided grin, hoping to charm them. When he saw the two women glaring at him, he adjusted a knob on one of the small machines and the volume of the music dropped to near zero.  
  
"Hey! Come to see my quarters, Rom-doll?" he quipped.  
  
"I know what every inch of the ship looks like, why would I-"  
  
Beka cut her off with a raised hand, rolling her eyes at the familiar exchange. "What is that racket, Harper and why are you trying to break all of our eardrums?"  
  
"It's...ah...something new," he said with a shrug, smiling innocently.  
  
She raised her eyebrows and smirked. "Don't bother adjusting your halo, Harper."  
  
His face fell. Disappointment at her latest rebuff deadened his eyes. Then a spark of defiance flared in them. "Okay, Boss, look, I was bored. Bored, bored, bored!" He circled the table and waved his hands maniacally at the bits and pieces of circuitry piled there. "Remember when I was possessed by the knowledge from that weird Perseid's brain? Well, I didn't just toss all two zillion projects I started into the garbage like Dylan said to. I kept a few and now I'm trying to finish them up! Not an easy task either, mind you, 'cause I don't even remember what most of this stuff does or is supposed to do." He took a deep breath, noticing a dark look of impatience infuse Beka's face. He hurried on, "So, I created a random holographic Extrapolator. It takes history files from Rommie's database and creates a holo-image. Viola! Instant rock concert."  
  
The tall blonde's gaze followed his pointing finger, a scowl marring her pretty features. In the corner of his room, a life-sized group of men with long stringy hair and garishly made-up faces pounded on ancient electric guitars. They danced and jumped about in front of a non-existent audience. Her mouth dropped open. She blinked rapidly. She could almost smell the sweat that dribbled down their necks, almost hear her ears ringing and the chanting crowd of the concert hall. Other than an occasional flicker, the hologram was incredibly lifelike. Finally, something interesting, Beka thought.  
  
Rommie frowned, furrowing her brow in confusion. She saw no real advantage to having a live rock concert in one's quarters. "Harper, I don't remember giving you permission to mess around with my history files. My operating files and to repair systems after notifying me, but not my history files, my memories. What if you erase something?"  
  
"Not gonna happen. The Harper is great! Y'see, I've limited the search parameters to the musical files for now. And it only reads your data then extrapolates the hologram based on compiled files of the subject. It doesn't do anything to your originals except read them. So, don't worry, Rom-doll, I won't hurt ya."  
  
She shot him a skeptical look then turned to watch Beka approach the musicians. The taller woman examined the players closely, nearly dipping her face into the holographic matrix to study the details. Rommie cocked her head in curiosity. Humans were an endless study.  
  
"So," Beka wondered aloud, "you could transfer this to the mess hall tonight and give us all a concert while we eat dinner?" Her gaze was riveted to the singers, pounding and smashing their holographic guitars almost soundlessly. She circled them slowly. A mischievous twinkle lit her blue eyes and a grin turned up the corners of her generous mouth.  
  
"You bet."  
  
"And we could pick any musician we want?" She gave him a sidelong stare, her blue eyes narrowed.  
  
"Well, theoretically. Y'see there are still some bugs that I'm working on. Right now, it's a randomly generated holo. The computer in the extrapolator picks. But, don't worry your pretty goldilocks. The Harper is working on the problem. And, the Harper is supreme!" He smiled broadly, rocking back and forth on his heels, hands in the pockets of his worn baggy trousers.  
  
"We'll just have to leave you to it, then." She grabbed Rommie by the golden vest she wore and dragged her from the room. Sticking her head back in the door, blond hair swinging, Beka told him, "Remember, Harper, chow's in two hours. I can't wait!"  
  
"Terrific." He sighed heavily. He'd already been struggling with this project for two days and was growing tired of it. It wasn't fun if it didn't work out quickly. Now, if he didn't fix it in two hours, he'd probably have to endure Beka's insistent ranting. He perched on the edge of his table and sifted through his scribbled notes. He usually did his tinkering in his workshop not his living quarters so things were crammed and stacked in disarray. "Great going, Seamus. DON'T write down the little details," he chided himself, "Sheesh, this all seemed as easy as kids blocks before."  
  
From the notes he'd scribbled during the madness brought on when the Perseid stuffed his brain with all of the knowledge of written history, he'd been able to build the machine. Talented engineer that he was, he figured out the missing data as he went. However, many small details still escaped him, now that the Perseid's knowledge had all been transferred to a safe storage place that only he and one sparkly purple compatriot knew of. He could generate images, but he couldn't choose them...yet. Absently, he raised the volume on the device to a level acceptable to the females of the crew. He studied his notes, nose nearly pressed against the crumpled paper pages. Soft piano music filled the air, slowly gaining in tempo and volume. He reached out to push the button that would switch the band to a new, faster, one.  
  
A woman's soft soprano voice began to sing. Strong with a slight raspy edge, the voice held an undercurrent of quiet desperation. His hand froze above the changing button. He glanced up. She was approximately his age, twenty-something. Her dark hair escaped from under a thick black winter cap in curling wisps that glittered faintly crimson. She wasn't beautiful, but her clear green eyes transfixed him. They were huge, intelligent and sorrowful.  
  
Instantly, he was enthralled. Deep inside him, he knew that she shared his painful loneliness. Her gaze was a bottomless pit of solitude. His stomach clenched with the familiarity of the pain staring out at him. Her eyes, her voice, her body language all dripped with the sadness, pain and loss of the music. He was too distracted to listen to the words of the song and didn't stop to think that the music fueled her emotions. It didn't matter. She mattered. She was the answer he was searching for, the water to fill his desert.  
  
The paper notes he held dropped from limp fingers to settle onto the floor with a rustle, unnoticed.  
  
The song reached its crescendo, her strong voice echoing in the small room. He felt his ribs vibrate with its power. Tears gleamed in her large eyes. The music slowed.  
  
Suddenly, he shook himself. He sprang from the table's edge, leapt over to the Extrapolator and snatched up the remote control whose display held the singer's name and the song title.  
  
"Oh, crap!" he exclaimed. Her name faded quickly as he looked at it and was gone. "Sophie, Sophie what?" He screamed once in frustration and shook the remote. When he looked back to the makeshift stage, a young man with thick black glasses, a big nose and bad hair had replaced Sophie.  
  
"No! Crap! Crap!" he shouted at the new hologram, shaking a fist at it.  
  
Furiously, he punched codes into the Extrapolator, knowing full well that he hadn't yet solved that particular puzzle. He was reasonably certain the Extrapolator stored a record of previous musical choices, so they could be easily retrieved. It was the retrieval method and codes he lacked. Finally, he tossed the Extrapolator's keyboard aside with a soft snarl. He raked dirty fingers through his dishwater blond hair, disheveling it. "At least you're recording the data," he snapped. "I hope."  
  
TBC in part 2. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. Thank you kindly for your time. 


	2. chapter 2

**Just wanted to say thank you kindly, in advance, for any feedback. And thank you to those who have left it already. I hope you enjoy this ride! I know I had fun writing this. Anna  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Beka drummed on the green tabletop impatiently. Things had been way too quiet onboard the Andromeda for the past four months, two of which had been spent kissing up to a system of feathery bird-people. Sure, they'd signed the charter, but without a space fleet, what good were they? Dylan acted like it was the biggest score in the Universe. Maybe to the Captain every tiny victory was vital, but those people couldn't even watch Andromeda's back. They couldn't even offer up supplies. Their food was disgusting and a human couldn't drink their water without contracting a revolting disease. She scowled, thankful that at the very least, she no longer had to listen to their tweeting, whistling speech. It grated on her every nerve like fingernails scraped on a chalkboard. There had been little for her to do as Dylan handled all of the negotiations and she was bored, itching for some action. Harper's little toy hardly qualified, but it was a distraction. There were some ancient tunes her father had played for her that she needed to find. She glared at the door. Harper was late. Tendrils of steam from her stew drifted across her line of sight.  
  
"Beka? Beka?" Trance's singsong voice cut into her reverie.  
  
"Huh?" She glanced at the plum colored girl seated across from her.  
  
"Your food's getting cold. You always say Verilian rabbit stew is nasty when it's cold."  
  
Her gaze dropped to her bowl. "Um, yeah, very nasty. Disgusting actually. Doesn't even taste like meat when it's cold. Thanks, Trance." She smiled and was glad to see relief spread across the girl's face. It always felt good to see the purple sparkly girl happy, though Trance was nearly always happy. Sometimes her suspicious nature made her wonder if it was all an act. No one could be that happy, that naive. She shoveled a spoonful of quickly cooling stew into her mouth, chewing without tasting. Her gaze drifted back to the door.  
  
Trance chewed slowly, swallowed. She watched Beka watch the door. "He'll be here soon. If not, we can sic Tyr on him."  
  
Beka chuckled, glancing up at the plum colored girl. "Those two have become a little too buddy-buddy for me."  
  
"Mm, I've noticed Tyr no longer wants to grind him to dust." Trance smiled broadly and waggled her violet eyebrows.  
  
The door whooshed open and Harper scurried in, wrapped in wiring, carrying two boxes of different sizes.  
  
The two women exchanged looks as the young man hurried by without acknowledging them. In a flurry of motion, he set up the equipment on the main counter and plugged in the power. He whirled with a flourish.  
  
"Prepare to be amazed, ladies. The Magnificent Harper your Engineer Extraordinaire has done it again!" He tapped a button.  
  
In the dimly lit space between the tables and banks of food replicators, a man materialized, seated at a black grand piano with swept back dark hair and dark sunglasses. He began to play the first soft notes of a ballad. His voice was deep, strong and mournful. Harper stepped from behind the singer and extended both arms toward the hologram. "Ta-da!"  
  
Both women applauded wildly. Beka jumped to her feet to get a better look. In a corner of the room, Rev looked up from the live salmon flopping on his tray to see what was happening.  
  
"Wonderful, Harper!" Trance crowed.  
  
Beka narrowed her eyes at the piano man. "Nice, Seamus, but can ya speed it up a bit? This guy's depressing."  
  
"Of course, I can. Don't give me that look. It works, doesn't it?" He caught the skeptical look she threw at him. "Well, okay, so it doesn't exactly work yet. But I'm working on it. Hey, genius isn't easy. And besides, when I came up with this I was all souped up on knowledge. Now I gotta sift through the wreckage of Hurricane Harper and find a coherent path. Don't worry. I'll get the bugs worked out."  
  
"So, no we can't choose what we want to hear yet," she clarified, hands on hips.  
  
A sheepish look crossed his face. He tossed her a small remote control with an LED screen. He raised his chin in defiance and flashed her a cocky grin. "No. But you can always change the channel until you find one you like. I'm sure there are plenty you'll like since it has access to just about every musician in the old Commonwealth history who ever got on vids or an interview. As an extra-special bonus, I'm working on adding depth by incorporating non-musical data into the basic database. They'll be more real then. You might even be able to have a conversation with them. Of course, I don't have access to any recent bands yet. But, I'm working on updating Rommie's archives with the most current, hot and trendy tunes of the last three hundred years. When it's completed this project will blow you away with its style, grace and reach-out-and-touch-'em reality."  
  
"Cool!" She examined the control quickly and punched the button several times, switching between different bands. Immersed in the new technology, she completely tuned out her surroundings.  
  
Feeling ignored, Harper went in search of food to stave off his gnawing hunger. He watched her as he waited for his food to cook, shaking his head in wonder at the childish glee transforming her face from the diligent starship Captain to a gorgeous happy blond.  
  
As he set his tray with drink and a bowl of thick stew on the table beside Trance, a loud, twanging guitar note jarred the air. Startled, he dropped his tray the last few inches. Stew and French fries with gravy slopped onto the polished green tabletop, splashing his purple friend's arm. "Ack, way to go, Boss Lady," he exclaimed, wiping gravy from Trance's sleeve with his cloth napkin. "Sorry, Trance."  
  
The beat pounded at a furious pace. Beka bounced back to them, turned her chair backward and straddled it, setting the remote on her tray. Trance gave her a pained look, cradling her arm. The gravy had been just hot enough to cause a mild burn.  
  
Harper covered his ears with a grimace. "And you didn't like MY music?" he shouted over the steel guitars. The sound echoed through the small mess hall, compounding the volume. "What is this?"  
  
Unnoticed, Rev winced at the beat, stood and carried his tray from the room to eat in the quiet of his quarters.  
  
Beka flashed him a wide smile, her perfect white teeth sparkling in the light. "Something my Dad called Country. He really liked it, though I don't remember it being so loud." She frowned and cocked her head as she tried to decipher her memories. Most were distant and foggy, buried behind years of denial.  
  
Harper widened his eyes in exasperation and poked at his food. It was usually best not to argue with the Acting First Officer. She could be quite demanding and hardheaded at times, not that he would ever admit that to her. He shuddered as he remembered the beatings she'd sanctioned against him when he was new to her crew. As Captain of the Eureka Maru, a pirate ship, Beka Valentine had been ruthless and mean at times. If she thought you had double-crossed her or shirked your responsibilities, she stood by and allowed her First Officer/boyfriend to beat the crap out of you. They'd been through a lot since she'd given the boyfriend the boot; fights and life threatening situations in which they learned to depend on each other. It had taken a long time for him to trust her. Now, though he knew she'd grown fond of him, when she was in a rage he'd sometimes involuntarily flinch when she strode toward him. He swallowed hard, putting the past in its place. They got along like estranged siblings these days. Times change. Right now, he had a problem to solve and he loved puzzles. The question was how would he retrieve Sophie. He had to see her again. He was just that lonely.  
  
"Um, Beka, this song is...nice, but, it's so loud my stomach's getting all queasy and stuff so could you-" Trance began.  
  
"Gotcha!" Beka lowered the volume until they no longer had to shout to converse. "So, Trance, what d'ya think?"  
  
Trance gave her a deer-in-the-headlights look. "It's different. Is it all so...fast?"  
  
"They sound like they're on Flash," Harper quipped.  
  
Beka shot him a challenging look. "And your squealing guitars sounded like a tortured animal."  
  
He flinched but didn't back down. "Hey, at least they-"  
  
"Guys! Guys!" Trance cut in. "I came in here to eat, not to watch you spar. You're not helping my digestion."  
  
Beka and Harper exchanged sheepish looks. At that moment the music changed to a Perseid song that none had ever heard before. Its uneven rhythms and soft notes were strangely soothing. They continued the meal in near total silence.  
  
All through the meal, Harper's subconscious replayed Sophie's image and song. She seemed to have so much more in common with him than either of the women at the table with him. His stomach clenched so that his food churned. He tried to eat but heartburn stabbed his chest. He tossed down his spoon in disgust. He knew he would get no sleep and not be able to eat until he solved the problem that nagged him. He shoved his tray away so suddenly that both women turned wide-eyed gazes to him. Noticing their stares, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "All right! It's this project. It's' got me all tied in knots and chompin' at the bit to finish it. I mean, sheesh, I have boards to resequence, files to scan, codes to break, parts to find and wiring to-"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, typical Harper stuff," Beka broke in, waving her fork at him dismissively. "Now you're disrupting MY digestion."  
  
Harper rolled his eyes. Exasperation welled up in him. He was tired of being taken for granted, treated like a child. Everyone was going stir- crazy. Even a ship the Andromeda's size couldn't keep them occupied completely. It was becoming a prison, more so because he was trapped aboard with three beautiful women whom he couldn't touch. The months blended together in strings of diplomatic pleas, bargaining, parties and the same old political crap. Where was the fun in that? He couldn't even remember individual days anymore. "Whatever, I'm outta here."  
  
Beka ignored him, not looking up from her food. After he'd gone, she flipped between the groups happily until she found another that made Trance wince.  
  
TBC in ch3 


	3. Chapter 3

Hi!  
  
Thank you kindly for all of the feedback. I really appreciate it! Sorry for the delay in posting this. My computer crashed and erased all of my writing. Yes, I lost some work, luckily not my pro stuff. And, I found this story so I can finish posting it, yay!  
  
Thank you for your time in reading, and in leaving feedback, if you choose to.  
  
Anna **  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Two days later, Harper bent over the Extrapolator, cursing softly. Empty Sparky Cola cans lay strewn around the room on the floor and teetered on the counters and the equipment. His hands trembled slightly from the combination of too much caffeine and mild sugar overdose and lack of sleep. He cursed again as the wire he was soldering fell from his tremulous fingertips. Frustrated, he tossed down the soldering iron and wire. He raked spot-burned and dirty fingers through his dusty, greasy hair that lay flaccid against his pasty skin. This project was taking entirely too long. It shouldn't be so difficult for a genius of his magnitude. He should've been finished in one day. Maybe Trance was right about sleep deprivation. Crap, maybe he was just getting old. He wasn't twenty-five any longer.  
  
He stretched and shuffled backward. His back against the wall, he slid down to sit cross-legged on the floor and closed his burning eyes. He'd rest . just for a moment. His head spun. Weariness circled around him, waves of dizziness pounding his body. He could hear his heartbeat racing frantically inside his skull. Nausea and exhaustion warred for dominance. The smell of solder and metal made his stomach churn. Normally, these smells comforted him, but not this day. The floor seemed to open up, extend out clawed fingers and drag him downward. He felt himself slipping into a dreamlike state that was half awake, half unconscious. He couldn't fight it; he didn't want to.  
  
Soft fingers tapped his shoulder, brushed against his cheeks lovingly. The cloying scent of a woman wrapped around him like a blanket of fog, clean and nutty, with a touch of sweet fruit and spices, like a distant childhood memory he held of his mother, like Sophie was in his imagination. He cracked open burning bleary eyes to see a woman leaning over him, her long dark chestnut hair gently swinging back and forth. She smiled angelically.  
  
"Sophie," he murmured giving her a tired, woozy smile.  
  
"No," she whispered gently with a faint trace of humor, "Trance." She reached out and brushed stringy hair back from his forehead.  
  
He frowned, eyes half closed, forehead furrowed in confusion. He tried to wrap his exhausted mind around her words. "Huh?"  
  
She giggled softly, like a cascade of tiny bells. "You're half-asleep, Seamus. You really should treat your body better and not stay up for three days straight. You're going to put yourself back in the infirmary."  
  
He blinked rapidly, her plum face coming into focus. Concern softened her large, dark eyes. Briefly, it occurred to him that she was very beautiful. She always had been. He forced back the thought. She was his best friend and off-limits. He sat up straight, clarity infusing his face. "Yeah, well, I was busy. You know me." Blinking rapidly to bring the world into focus, he took her proffered hand and let her pull him to his feet. He swayed unsteadily.  
  
She tsk, tsked, shaking her head. Spangles and tiny flowers in her headband sparkled in the light. Her tawny hair stuck up in spikes that made him reel with envy. "Harper, as Acting Medical Officer, I have to order you to go to bed. You really need it."  
  
"No!" He shook his head violently, causing him to stumble dizzily. "I'm near an epiphany, Trance. I know it! I just know it! I can't leave now or I'll lose all the momentum I've built up. I don't want to forget it all again."  
  
"You probably won't remember much anyway." She raised a skeptical brow, pursing her maroon stained lips. "After a certain number of hours of wakefulness, the body stops recording information." She crossed her arms over her bosom.  
  
He blinked at her uncomprehendingly. "Look, I'm almost done. I can feel it."  
  
She frowned, worried. She reached out and smoothed his hair with gentle, long-nailed fingers as if he were a child. "Okay, but not for much longer. I don't want you getting sick again and you know you always get sick when you don't get enough sleep."  
  
"Yeah, so?" He shrugged. She was right. He got sick every time he was sleep deprived. Shoot, he got sick every time the wind blew on him. "But I'm not a child and I don't care this time. This project is too important to me. I can sleep when I'm dead."  
  
She regarded him sadly for a long moment. "I'll make you some chicken soup," she said and pulled him into her surprisingly strong arms for a quick hug.  
  
"Okay," he acquiesced, enjoying the softness of her body.. Arguing would get him nowhere. He picked up his soldering iron, still hot and smoking, and dove back into his work.  
  
She walked away slowly, gazing back at him with regret. "It's always important to you," she murmured.  
  
He glanced at his notes then fit two more parts together, working feverishly, Trance forgotten again. The few moments of near sleep had rejuvenated his energy banks and given him renewed purpose. He'd finish this thing today if it killed him.  
  
~~  
  
Trance stirred the simmering soup slowly. She inhaled deeply the rich, invigorating scent. Chicken soup was the ultimate comfort food. She was thankful that her mother had taught her how to make it so many years before. She could easily have replicated the soup. It would have been finished and Harper would be eating now. However, she much preferred to replicate the raw ingredients and make the soup herself in the galley. Somehow, it always tasted better to her. She added a pinch of thyme. The replicated soup was always missing something...something her mother said could only be added by the cook...two stirs hope, three stirs love.  
  
She smiled. This ought to make him feel much better and stave off illness for a while. Chicken soup was proven medicinal and she added extra herbs she knew enhanced those properties.  
  
The door to the galley swished open. Dylan strode in, stopping short. "Umm," he said, closing his eyes. "Smells like Grandma's house. What's cooking, Trance?"  
  
"Chicken soup. I think Harper's getting sick again."  
  
"Surprise, surprise." He crossed to stove and stared over her shoulder into the steaming pot. The golden liquid swirled around her wooden spoon, tiny bits of green and red herbs dancing wildly in the sparkling amber liquid. He closed his eyes again and inhaled deeply, absorbing the healing steam. "Ah. I could stand here all night."  
  
Trance chuckled.  
  
"Is there enough for two?"  
  
"You and Harper?"  
  
He leaned his elbows on the counter beside the stove and gave her a lopsided grin, blue eyes twinkling with good humor. "Yes."  
  
She grinned at him, cocking her head and peering down at him coyly through long lashes. "Of course. I always make enough for everyone. Harper gets the first bowl, though."  
  
"You're a blessing, Trance, a real blessing." He took two thick plastic navy blue bowls from a cabinet and set them on the counter beside the stove, licking his lips. He gaze was riveted to the cook pot.  
  
"Thank you," she said, dipping into the soup and filling both bowls.  
  
"No, thank you." He took up the bowl and began to slurp the hot soup, blowing on it a little to cool it.  
  
"Careful, hot, hot," she admonished.  
  
He nodded quickly, sucking in air to cool the steaming soup in his mouth. He swallowed and set the soup down, stirring it to cool it. "But oh so yummy!"  
  
She set Harper's bowl on a tray with napkin, spoon and crackers, then pushed the tray aside. She leaned back against the counter and regarded Dylan seriously. "So, now that the Xixu have signed the treaty what are we going to do?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Are we, like, going to hang out here or immediately go in search of another system to join us or what?"  
  
Dylan crossed his arms over his chest and smiled, trying to figure out her point. It was a difficult thing to do with Trance. Her roundabout speech was as convoluted as a labyrinth. Sometimes it was just better to defer to her. "What else should we do?"  
  
She shrugged, glancing nervously around the room. "Well, the tension level on the ship is really really high and Harper's getting sick and truthfully, I'm kind of bored myself. So, maybe we could go somewhere and relax. Take a break."  
  
"Shore leave?"  
  
She nodded quickly, a smile brightening her elfin features. "Yes. For all of us. As Chief Medical Officer, kind of, I think it would do us all a lot of good, even Beka even though she hates weather and planets and stuff."  
  
He chuckled. Shore leave, was that all? "Okay. Any ideas on who has the best restaurants?"  
  
"No, but I thought maybe Andromeda would have information on the local systems and planets in her database. Someplace really close would be nice. Then we could get there quickly."  
  
"I'll have her locate a nice, quiet place." He smiled and placed a light, friendly pat on her back.  
  
"With dancing? For Beka...she really needs it right now even if she won't admit it."  
  
"Sure." He picked up his bowl and spoon.  
  
"And shopping?"  
  
He shot her a surprised look, so much for peace and quiet. "You got it."  
  
"Great!" She laughed, bounced in place and returned to her soup, shutting off the stove and picking up Harper's tray.  
  
Dylan watched her leave, shaking his head. She was an enigma. Sometimes she seemed innocent as a child; sometimes he felt she was manipulating him, yet couldn't prove it. He hated to think he was a puppet in a grand play, but somehow, knowing that someone else could see the big picture was comforting.  
  
The door whooshed shut. He sipped his soup, making soft contented noises. One thing Trance could do was cook.  
  
~~  
  
Beka curled up on her bed beside the view port. Outside, the stars drifted by lazily as the Andromeda cruised along at sublight speed. She assumed Dylan was taking his time picking their next prey, the next system he'd pound with diplomatic rhetoric until they either agreed to join the Restored Commonwealth or gave him the boot out of their region of space. At the moment, she didn't care.  
  
She was horny and the book she was reading only made that worse. She desperately needed a man. Sure, she could take care of part of the problem herself, but where was the fun. the challenge in that? And it wasn't as though she always needed a man, she wasn't a tramp or addicted or anything. It had been a while... a long while. Being trapped in close proximity onboard the ship with two well-developed males, Dylan and Tyr, was enough to drive any woman a little stir-crazy. Not that she would admit it, of course. That would be a sign of weakness. She knew the other females onboard looked too, and were just as affected. Each dealt with the attraction in their own way.  
  
She clicked the button to change the page, licking her lips, breathing heavily in anticipation. Her fingers trembled slightly at the passion brought on by the story.  
  
*"Amelia allowed her head to fall back in total submission to his workings. Slowly, he unbuttoned the pearl heart-shaped buttons on her blouse...."*  
  
Down the hallway, a loud curse echoed through the Andromeda's corridors. Beka started, jarred from her book. She glared at the door to her quarters. The corridor outside it was quiet. She turned back to her novel.  
  
*"Each inch that he descended was sweet agony. Amelia buried her fingers in his long, thick dark hair, gently scraping her nails along his flesh and licking...."*  
  
There was a loud crash in the hallway. Beka bared her teeth at the door, willing whoever was creating the racket to spontaneously vaporize. The hall was quiet. Shaking her head in annoyance, she continued to read.  
  
*"Perdue glanced up at her then, savoring the scent of her, the taste of her sweet sweat, the sheer joy on her face. He ran his fingers along her body. She arched her back in response to his touch. He laughed deep in his throat. She shivered. He-"*  
  
An argument broke out in the corridor not far from Beka's room. Two male voices shouted at each other. Metallic clangs and the sounds of objects being tossed about echoed through the ship. She snarled in frustration, slamming her flexi-novel down onto the rumpled comforter on her bed. She flung herself toward the door, determined to wreak havoc on those who disturbed her.  
  
As she stepped from her door a thick flexi spun toward her head. She ducked and it hit harmlessly down the hall, sliding out of sight. She watched it go then whirled on the offenders.  
  
"What in the blazes are you two doing?" she demanded.  
  
Harper flashed her a wide-eyed, defiant look. His dark blond hair stood in wild spikes, dotted with black clumps of oil.  
  
Tyr took advantage of his distraction to snag the diminutive engineer's shirt and heft him into the air. Harper's feet dangled a yard above the metallic deck. He kicked wildly and snarled at the tall Nietzschean, fighting like a feral cat.  
  
She blinked rapidly. The sculpted Nietzschean wore only a towel, wrapped precariously around his narrow hips. He resembled an ancient Greek statue come to life. Instantly, she felt amused by the situation and a bit guilty because she didn't feel sorry for Harper at all. Desire welled up inside her. Tyr in a towel slung low on his hips was not what she needed to see in her condition.  
  
Tyr leaned his face close to Harper's and said in a low, dangerous voice, "Where is it, Little Man?"  
  
"You're not getting it back, Goliath. I need it! Put me down or kick you in the jewels. I'm at the perfect height, you know." His gaze flickered down meaningfully.  
  
The huge man didn't waiver his gaze. He stared into Harper's shifting blue eyes. The quietness of his face was more frightening than anger. Even angry, he seldom lost control. He was capable of snapping the young man's neck in an instant.  
  
Harper swallowed hard. Maybe this time he had pushed the large man too far. Nietzscheans were warriors, after all, and only concerned with their own needs and desires. Tyr had boarded the ship as a mercenary. He still kept his allegiances to himself. Harper shivered in fear.  
  
Beka crossed her arms over her chest. "Put him down," she snapped, already tired of the game.  
  
Tyr didn't react. He pressed Harper more forcefully against the wall. The small Earthling coughed from the pressure.  
  
"TYR!" Beka shouted in her most authoritative tone.  
  
The Nietzschean straightened, releasing some of the pressure, still holding the human high.  
  
"Down. Now," Beka growled through gritted teeth.  
  
Without looking at her, he dropped Harper. The younger man hit the floor hard, landing in a heap, coughing and rubbing his aching chest.  
  
Beka strode over to them, towering over the engineer as he lay on the floor trembling. "Give whatever it is back and stop acting like children." She stood beside Tyr, peering at him from the corner of her eye. Her skin tickled on the side that faced him. Her face tingled. With a burst of anger she realized she was probably blushing. She had the unreasonable urge to reach out and snatch his towel away, to run her fingers along his well- defined chest. She could see now that it was damp. Tiny droplets of water clung to his dark skin. They glittered like tiny white diamonds, flashing and distracting her. He smelled intoxicatingly of soap and a scent that was all his own, feral and dangerous. Her stomach clenched with hunger.  
  
Harper put on an innocent look, leaping to his feet indignantly. "Beka, I'm hurt. You think I stole something from him? I-"  
  
She smirked in patent disbelief.  
  
"I needed it, y'see. Really needed it," he blabbered, seeing that she wouldn't buy a lie.  
  
"Your project?"  
  
"Another useless compilation of gadgets. A waste of time and resources," Tyr snapped, towering menacingly over Harper.  
  
Beka shifted uncomfortably at his proximity. The bare skin of his arm was mere inches away. Her peripheral vision gave her a wonderful view of his bulging pectoral muscles, rippling and flexing as he spoke. She felt dizzy.  
  
Harper glared at him. "Yeah, my project." He turned toward Beka. "The one you loved so much with your dinner every night for the past three days, Beka, Miss First Officer, Miss Play-Screechy-Guitars," he reminded her. "It's almost fixed. I just needed the Sarliaonic wiring that he had and wasn't using, by the way, for anything but a decoration on the wall."  
  
She shook her head imperceptibly in exasperation. She didn't really care about Harper's little situation. What was she, a dog in heat that she couldn't concentrate when standing next to a man? A tall, well built, manly- she gritted her teeth and forced herself to focus on the small man glaring up at her. "It's a vital component?"  
  
"Yes. The wiring has unique elements. It should prevent the burnout I've been experiencing and fix everything."  
  
She stared at him for a long moment, mind racing. She turned to Tyr, looking up into his deceptively soft brown eyes, trying desperately to ignore the fact that only a thin towel separated her from his birthday suit. She licked her lips and tried to swallow in a suddenly dry mouth. "Tyr," she croaked and cleared her throat. "Is this thing really so important or is it just a sentimental bit of wires?"  
  
His brow furrowed momentarily when he looked at her face for the first time. "It was simply a bracelet woven by natives on Drexl IV. Sentimental at best. The point is that the little weasel was in my quarters without permission."  
  
Beka shot Harper a dark look, aware that the man beside her was staring at her strangely. It annoyed her to no end. "Harper, ask next time," she snapped, "Don't steal things or I'll let Tyr have fifteen minutes alone with you." She waggled her eyebrows meaningfully then turned back to Tyr, meeting his eyes levelly. "Can you let it go this time? He's outta his mind from lack of sleep."  
  
An amused look crept across his burnt sienna features. He glanced at her up and down, even sniffed once. He straightened slightly, thrusting his chest muscles closer to her face, his towel closer to her hips. Though not touching, he was obviously aware of how much his appearance was affecting her. He took an interminable time to respond. "He may have it. This time." He leaned closer to her. "Are you aware," he said slowly and softly, "that your face is flushed, Captain Valentine? Your pulse is racing, your forehead lightly frosted with hot sweat? Are you ill? Feverish, perhaps?"  
  
She met his eyes quickly, noting the knowing twinkle in them, the tiny smile that tugged at the corners of his lush mouth, and squared her shoulders defiantly. "Nope. Nothing wrong with me. Just a perfectly normal, healthy HUMAN woman."  
  
He'd told her before that, as a human woman, she wasn't proper breeding stock for him. Her DNA wasn't good enough. But then, a Nietzschean woman's main destiny in life was to have lots of children to further her Pride. If she didn't further the Pride, she was ostracized. Tyr was the last surviving member of the Kodiak Pride. He was driven to have superior children.  
  
Not that he's making any headway on that, she thought bitterly, he had no children that she knew of. Not that she wanted to have his children, or anyone's children. Damn him for making her think about all this! Her fingers shook as he stared into her eyes, gripping her gaze as surely as if he had clutched her chin in his fingers. It was almost as though he could read her thoughts, smell her confusion. Hell, as a Nietzschean, he probably could. Damn, damn him! As they stood there, gazes locked, she thought she heard Harper shuffle away muttering about finally being finished, but she wasn't certain.  
  
Tyr stared deeply into her eyes until she began to tremble. Then the grin flourished on his face even as fiery passion flared in his deep chocolate eyes. Then he turned to go. She saw it...she was certain she saw passion echoed in the subtle lines of his face, in his eyes. She swore she heard him chuckle as he left. Berating herself and breathing raggedly, she couldn't tear her gaze from the sway of his hips under the towel as he swaggered away. Man, she really needed to get off this ship!  
  
TBC. 


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you all for reading this far! I hope you're enjoying this labor of love.  
  
Anna  
  
Chapter 4  
  
"There!" Harper cried triumphantly as he connected what he hoped was the last wire. He straightened, sat back and scrubbed his palms over his sweaty face, leaving faint black smears on his unshaven cheeks. He said a quick prayer to the Divine that this would work and he could finally get some sleep.  
  
Holding his breath, he flipped the switch. The Extrapolator hummed. The air in the workshop sparkled and a hologram appeared near the wall across the room. It wasn't Sophie, but that was okay; all he needed was his foot in the door. He turned the volume off and punched codes that would start a search pattern in the Extrapolator. The coding would instruct the machine to sift through previously played material for a specific performer.  
  
He sat, rocking back and forth, staring at the hologram. Finally, he expelled his breath loudly. It echoed from the metal walls. He stood. He paced. He glared. The machine hummed. Slowly working. Slowly. Slowly. "Sheesh!" he exclaimed to the walls. "How many bands did Beka surf through?"  
  
Eventually, the Extrapolator beeped. Harper whirled, hands clasped together before him as if in prayer. Protons spun in the open air and coalesced into the form of a petite woman with just beyond shoulder-length chestnut hair and enormous green eyes. She held a six string acoustic guitar. His mouth fell open in relief. His heart raced in his chest.  
  
Sophie was everything he wished for.  
  
~~  
  
Beka punched the bag again, determined to rid herself of the errant hormones that raced like fire through her veins. She couldn't figure out why she seemed to feel everything so deeply of late. She had lived her entire life on board a starship. She should not be going stir-crazy. She hit the bag until her hand ached, her heart did a wild dance in her chest and she had to gasp for air. Maybe she felt like she was on fire because the last time she'd had real fun or a real date had been over six months earlier. And, maybe the book "The Sword of Desire" had something to do with it. It was very provocative, stirring up fantasies she normally suppressed. She beat the bag in time to her mental conversation; ignoring the sweat dripping into her eyes and making them sting.  
  
Her life was good now. Stable and predictable. But that was the problem. She loved danger, a little spice in her life. She needed to live in interesting ... personally interesting times. Dylan's crusade was captivating at times but incredibly dull most of the time. Every mission was nearly the same lately; find another planet to woo into the Restored Commonwealth and kiss their butts even if they said, 'No.'  
  
She didn't hear the door to the gym open. She didn't notice Dylan stroll in with the basketball in his hands. She didn't see him nearly trip over his feet when he saw her or see him stare at her for a very long moment before dribbling the ball and shooting a basket.  
  
The sound of the ball hitting the backboard jarred her from her thoughts. She whirled, furious that someone would interfere with her introspection. Her blond hair spun away from her in clumps, shooting sweat out in every direction. As she stopped, it slapped against her face, partially covering her eyes and nose. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him. Crap, first Tyr in a towel and now this! Damn him for coming in here wearing only a tiny tank top and formfitting bike shorts. She closed her eyes and took a long deep breath, swiping nervously at the wet hair covering her face.  
  
"Beka," Dylan said pleasantly, turning with a grin to shoot another basket.  
  
Her eyes flew open.  
  
"You okay? You look like you overdid it." He dribbled the ball casually in front of him. Its report echoed too loudly from the walls.  
  
She shook her head quickly, trying desperately to keep her gaze only on his face. She smoothed her hair back and wiped her damp hands on her pants. "No, no, well...yeah, maybe. Okay, yes. I..." Her gaze darted around wildly. "I gotta go." She ignored the strange look he gave her as she dashed past him, brushing his arm accidentally. In the corridor, she stopped, pressed her back against the wall and cursed whatever illness had obviously befallen her. "It's the idiot's disease," she muttered. Her skin thrummed with energy. The skin of her arm that had brushed his burned and itched. She rubbed it unconsciously. She could almost still feel Dylan's proximity; the energy waves emanating from his skin...his well muscled toned...she dug her nails into her hair. Hearing a noise from inside the gym, she bolted down the hall.  
  
TBC in ch 5. 


	5. Chapter 5

Hi! Thank you for reading. Enjoy the ride!  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Sophie began to sing, faintly, a lilting bouncy song. It started slow and sped up until it reached a frantic crescendo. He stared, unable to move. When the song was done the echoes of her voice lingered like ghostly images around the room. Harper started to breathe again as soon as her image winked out.  
  
He smiled in satisfaction. He'd done it. He'd found her. In a sense, now she was his. The feeling of possession thrilled him. He could program the Extrapolator for continuous play and use her entire repertoire to serenade him all night. Hell, he could rig up a remote transmitter and earphones, and listen to her twenty-four hours a day. Joy rose in him like a tidal wave, washing away the last vestiges of loneliness and despair. He couldn't remember the last time he was so happy. The apathy he'd begun to feel toward his crewmates and the mission vanished. He started another song.  
  
As she began to sing another ballad, he yawned widely, abruptly exhausted. Her image wavered before his tired eyes. He stood; staggered to a small closet and pulled out the thin sleeping pad he kept for the times he couldn't leave his work. He tossed it onto the floor in front of her and crossed to the Extrapolator. Quickly, he programmed it to have her sing all night, turned the volume to low and plopped onto the futon. He was asleep before he hit the bed.  
  
** "I think he's obsessing," came Rommie's haughty voice, echoing as if from inside a hollow tunnel. A loud steady rushing sound nearly drowned her out.  
  
A soft giggle followed. "About who?"  
  
"You."  
  
"Me?" murmured Sophie's dulcet tones. "Us. I am you after all."  
  
"In a way. You were copied from my programming. But, he has modified- "  
  
He opened his eyes and looked at them. The two women stood over him, draping leaves forming a dark canopy above them. Sitting up, he saw a heavy downpour of rain beyond the edge of the trio of trees that sheltered them. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that the deluge encircled them. Rommie extended her hand and helped him up.  
  
He chuckled nervously. "So, you two babes talking about me?"  
  
"No," they said in unison.  
  
Sophie stepped forward and took his face in her hands. She kissed him deeply. He returned the kiss like a man who'd been dying in the desert finally getting his first drink. After a few long moments, they broke apart. Smiling broadly, Harper's gaze sought Rommie, and found her standing near the rain, a wistful expression on her finely sculpted features. He spread his arms open wide, vaguely aware that he was dreaming.  
  
"Come-on, Rom-doll. Join the party."  
  
She gazed at him, dark eyes brimming with soft tears. She attempted a grin, her trembling lips pressed together.  
  
He cocked his head in confusion. He let his arm drop to his side.  
  
She sniffled, and turned toward the sheeting rain.  
  
"Hey, Rommie-" he called, taking a step after her. Sophie, arms around his waist, clutched him and held him in place.  
  
Rommie gave him an actual smile, though devoid of joy. The sheer devastation in that smile shocked him. He found himself shivering.  
  
"You've made your choice," she said softly, then turned and stepped into the rain. The sheeting curtains of the deluge devoured her. **  
  
"Rommie!" He sat up on the futon, panting, dribbling sweat burning his eyes.  
  
~~  
  
Beka reclined against the back of the seat in the observation deck, watching the stars stream by. She tried to still her racing heart, quell her emotions and think of anything but men and dancing and expending a lot of energy. Try as she might, she couldn't get the images out of her head. With every blink of her eyes, she saw Tyr with his towel slipping precariously or Dylan in tight spandex shorts, looking very happy to see her.  
  
She slapped the observation windows in frustration. How much more of this could she take? Did she catch something from those bird people? She couldn't concentrate. Nothing on board ship really interested her anymore, except her book. This was very strange. Born and raised on the Eureka Maru, a very small starship, she found life in space a wonderful experience. So, why did she long for the company of strangers? Maybe she just needed action, bright lights, dancing, and a little fun.  
  
Harper's new creation was fun, but the excitement was fading fast. She sighed. As realistic as the holograms were, they still lacked the energy of the real thing. You couldn't touch them. You couldn't strike up a conversation with them, though Harper swore he was working on that feature. She'd give her eyeteeth for a chance to talk to someone new...someone that didn't whistle and tweet as they spoke. She was so intent on her speculations that she didn't hear the door to the Obs Deck swoosh open.  
  
Dylan stood watching her silently, leaning against a support strut. Sweat dried quickly on his forehead in the cool, circulating air, though his shirt remained damp and clingy. He could tell there was a battle raging inside her by the flowing expressions on her face. Briefly, he wondered at her thoughts, wondered about her reaction to him earlier in the gym. Trance must be right, again. Beka needed a break from the routine.  
  
"Stop being stupid," Beka snarled at her own reflection in the window glass, then pulled her damp hair back into a short ponytail. Suddenly, she stiffened. Her blues eyes widened in shock and embarrassment. Dylan's face was mirrored in the glass directly above her own. Abruptly angry, she whirled. "Spy on people much?" she snapped.  
  
He snapped back in surprise, an embarrassed flush creeping over his cheeks. His eyebrows rose mildly as he tried to play it off. "A good captain always knows what's going on with his crew. Watch without appearing to watch, you know that, Captain Valentine."  
  
"Like you knew what your Nietzschean buddy, what was his name, Rhade, was doing? You ever eavesdrop on him?" she snapped, even as she realized that, as a Captain, she had eavesdropped on her own crew. It was the only way to be certain you knew everything that was going on. Dylan was right; watch without letting them know you watched. Listen without letting on that you heard.  
  
Her words stung him. He frowned, straightening. The flush vanished as his face drained of color. Strain made a muscle twitch in his cheek.  
  
Instantly, she felt guilty. He wasn't at fault for her mood, even if he unwittingly contributed to it. "Sorry," she said more softly. "That was a low blow. You couldn't know what he was planning. Frell, he probably didn't even know what he was planning until the Nietzscheans attacked at the Horse Head Nebula. Gotta credit a Nietzschean for pouncing on an opportunity."  
  
"Apology accepted," he said, strolling closer. He smiled down at her, his gaze dropping to the cleavage exposed by her outfit and his angle. Quickly, he cleared his throat and stared past her at the stars, a flush once again infusing his face. For a long moment, he stood silently, the passing stars mirrored in his eyes.  
  
Finally, amused by his reaction, she turned away from him and stared too. It was better that she not look at him. He was too beautiful, too serene, and too stoic. He seemed to lack the raging emotions that stormed through her constantly. It was too painful to know that he probably could read her like a book and consciously chose not to help her. Ah, well, a Captain's first duty was to his-or-her ship, not to his hormones. She'd probably never know if he even thought she was attractive. His flush was probably just because he got a quick peek down her shirt and didn't want to. She took a few deep breaths and found her anger fading. He was still hung up on his three-century dead fiancee anyway.  
  
"If you have a problem, you can talk to me. Confidentiality is my trademark," he said finally.  
  
Her gaze flickered up to his reflected face in the glass. Her eyes narrowed. Her mind raced as she tried to fathom his motives. After a few long moments she frowned and turned to him uncomfortably, pulling her knees up to her chest. She shrugged and glanced away when he looked at her. "It's...I don't know exactly. This ship is growing smaller all the time. I mean, you have this big crusade, this mission in life that consumes you." She gestured broadly with her hands, showing how big his ideals were. "It leaves you little room for anything else. That's fine for you. You're happy. You're busy. But, for me, well, sure I believe in the Commonwealth dream too. But it doesn't control my life. It's your quest."  
  
He smiled gently. "I know. And I'm thankful that you and the others are taking time out of your lives to help me. I couldn't have gotten this far without you."  
  
"It's a nice dream, I suppose. And it would be good for the universe, I guess. But..." She glanced up at him and gave him an apologetic look. "This quest is kind of dull."  
  
He pulled back in surprise. "Dull?"  
  
"Yeah, face it, it's the same thing every time. One Drift after another who has to be convinced through hours of rhetoric how wonderful joining the Restored Commonwealth would be. They hedge, they whine, they give in...or not. And they all want something from us. They're like vultures. Then there's either a party or a road trip to the next Drift and it starts all over again. It all blends together. Where's the fun? Where's the excitement? I thought the High Guard was exciting, but all we do is talk."  
  
He listened patiently as Captains were trained to do in the High Guard. For all his quietude, his mind spun considering her words and their ramifications. The crew was not happy, as Trance had said. An unhappy crew was an inefficient, perhaps even dangerous crew. He needed to try harder to find a haven for shore leave. Still, he had the feeling her problems were more personal than needing shore leave. He honestly had no idea what they were. "We've had our moments, Beka. What about our little time travel trip? Or, searching for Tarn Vedra? The Perseid who-"  
  
She raised her hands defensively. "All right, all right. So it hasn't all been boring. But it has lately. For months at least. I'm getting' kind of tired of seeing the same old faces continuously."  
  
"And that's all that's wrong?"  
  
She stiffened, suddenly wary. His voice was full of genuine concern, but she hadn't noticed that he'd moved closer to her as they talked. His arm nearly brushed her shoulder. Now she was very aware, too aware. She couldn't keep it from her face. She tore her gaze from him, trying to ignore the fact that she could still see his spandex shorts in her peripheral vision. She prayed that the window glass muted her reflection enough to mask her emotions, though she knew that it didn't.  
  
"You're sure? You look kind of flushed. Are you getting sick or..." he trailed off as he noticed her looking at him from the corner of her eye. A flush crept across his cheeks and he swallowed hard. Why was she looking there? Too late, he realized that his attire wasn't the best choice. It occurred to him what part of her problem might be. He realized she might have picked up on some of his growing emotions for her during their time working together. But a relationship couldn't be. He was the Captain, she a crewmember. His first duty, first love, must be for his ship. Dating a crewmember would undermine his authority. Trying to seem innocent, he crossed his hands in front of his spandex shorts and let his gaze roam around the room, stopping everywhere except on his Acting First Officer. He noted that Trance had been in the room, adding more and more plants. They bloomed magnificently under her care.  
  
She rolled her eyes, abruptly angry. Why did guys always assume a woman was sick if she showed more than one emotion? Either that or they assumed she was on her period and somehow weak and inferior. The thought pissed her off. She turned away from him to stare out at the stars. She didn't want to look at him. And Dylan, he was probably in love with Andromeda just as Rommie was hopelessly smitten with him. Slowly, a brilliant orange and purple nebula crept by. Its ghostly arms spread wide in a silent dance. "That time of the month, I guess," she quipped, trying to gage by his reaction if that's what he was thinking.  
  
He was silent, at a loss for words.  
  
The silence stretched uncomfortably. Both searched for something to say and drew a blank. Dylan's stomach growled and broke the tension.  
  
"No. I'm not sick, just feeling weird," she admitted, softly, after deciding he was genuinely trying to be nice. "Like something's missing and I don't know what it is. I've tried a lot of different remedies, sports, reading, long showers, running the decks. Nothing works. Rev even talked me into meditating amongst Trance's plants. I don't know. Didn't work. The hole is still there."  
  
"Spring fever."  
  
"What?" She whirled to face him, letting her feet fall to the floor. He jumped back as though jolted by a static shock when her bare leg brushed his. She cocked her head in confusion. "There are no seasons here, in case you haven't noticed." She gave him a look that asked if he were insane.  
  
He grinned, not meeting her piercing stare. He continued mildly, as though lecturing a student, "Spring fever is a condition where a person has been cooped up inside so long due to snow outside that they go a little crazy. They'd do anything to get outside and expend some energy."  
  
She looked away then glanced at him uncomfortably, furrowing her brow. "Oh, well, that's it then."  
  
"I'll see what I can do," he said with a smile, reaching out automatically to pat her shoulder. Suddenly afraid of his reaction if he touched her, he stopped himself, hand poised over her skin, then yanked it back quickly. Not waiting for her reply, he whirled and strode from the room. Once in the corridor, he released a deep breath, and strolled away, humming softly to himself. He was confident that he had solved another puzzle and his crew would soon be purring like sun baked cats. He was also very glad to avoid dealing with his burgeoning attraction for his Acting First Officer, particularly since he knew his ship's avatar liked him. What a mess that all could be...a very fatal mess. He increased his pace back to his quarters lest Beka come out behind him.  
  
Beka watched him leave. She didn't really know what he was talking about or why he was suddenly so happy. She was glad he left. It was difficult to hide his effect on her. Shoot, she wasn't good at interpersonal games. Her emotions were probably transparent. It was too late now. With a shrug, she turned back to her contemplation of the stars. Inexplicably, she found that she also felt better. Some of the tension had faded. Strange, the way he sometimes did that to her.  
  
~~  
  
Harper salivated over the holo-image of Sophie singing until his eyes ached and burned. During the past four days, he had taken to eating his meals in his quarters, leaving only when absolutely necessary. He'd taken the Extrapolator into the mess hall one time and gotten ribbed over the fact that the only singer he'd play was Sophie. Oh, they agreed she was good, but Tyr pointed out his schoolboy crush and Beka danced around singing, "Harper's got a girlfriend" until he wanted to punch her. He'd left in a huff with Tyr grinning after him.  
  
Now, he was alone in his quarters, playing the same song over and over. It was his favorite, the one that had made an indelible impression with the first notes she sang. Rubbing his eyes, he stood and crossed to her. She swayed and danced serenely to the melody she sang, gaze distant, turned inward toward some beautiful scene only she could see. Automatically, his feet took him to stand before her and sway in time with her movements. He didn't close his eyes only gazed upon her face as he danced with her. She was, perhaps, an inch shorter than he was. Their movements blended wonderfully. He matched her step for step; palms clasped behind his back lest he accidentally bump her holo-image and destroy the illusion that she was really there. Sweet agony filled his middle. He burned to hold her in his arms, to smell her hair, to feel her breath upon his neck.  
  
It was not to be. He could see the interior of his room faintly through her. She sang and danced and never looked at him. She couldn't see him. She didn't know he existed. It was torture to him, a form of cruel and unusual punishment. He couldn't explain it, but he needed to see her every day. He ached to embrace her, to really dance with her. At the moment, she seemed like the closest thing to a real love that he would ever have. He had played her hologram so often since he discovered her that he'd memorized her face.  
  
Then he had an epiphany. He knew what he had to do to cure his longing.  
  
TBC in ch 6. 


	6. Chapter 6

Hi!  
  
Thank you all for the wonderful comments! Glad you're enjoying the ride! Anna  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Rommie stood At Ease beside the captain's chair, palms crossed behind her back, feet shoulder-width apart, studying Dylan unobtrusively from the corner of her eye. He was tense. She could sense his tension. Respiration, too quick, heart rate, unsteady, she checked off of the list in her mind. That she would monitor his bodily functions without his knowledge was not unusual, he was her captain after all. His word was law for all three of her incarnations, well two anyway. Her avatar self was infused with human emotions and tended to be more independent. So she monitored him whenever she felt like it.  
  
She frowned. She'd never really considered herself independent. She considered herself as part of the starship Andromeda, the ship being the main part of all that was her. A warship. Yet, as an Avatar she could think and feel and move without regard to the ship. She could experience an entirely separate life. It was confusing, really. Still, every part of her loved her captain, loved Dylan, wholeheartedly. So, she stared, she monitored, she kept watch and protected him.  
  
With one finger over his lips, chin in palm, leaning his elbow against the arm of the pilot's seat, he pondered the system slowly growing in the viewscreen.  
  
She smiled. He looked almost eager. Shore leave would do him good.  
  
"Rommie," Dylan said.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Inform the crew that we will be going ashore soon."  
  
"I will." She cocked her head to look at him sideways. "Dylan, is it wise to let everyone go planetside simultaneously? I know you all need it, but regulations suggest you go in shifts," she said. "And Harper has been acting strangely."  
  
He frowned thoughtfully. "Have faith, Rommie. Don't be so pessimistic. Nothing will go wrong. Besides, Andromeda is very resourceful and can take care of things."  
  
Her brow furrowed momentarily, assuming he spoke of her in all of her incarnations. She wasn't certain if she should be flattered. She wasn't certain whether he meant * she* would have to stay and mind the store. "I'll let them know."  
  
"Rommie," he called as she turned to leave. She stopped and peered at him with a questioning look. "You're going too."  
  
"I have no need for relaxation."  
  
He rolled his eyes. "So? See new sights. Learn something. Stick with one of the women and experience fun things. Go with Beka and... well, no, go with Trance and learn how to shop, um, on second thought that might not be such a great idea either."  
  
She smiled. "I've gone with her and Beka before. It's a unique experience." Her expression turned serious. "Still, someone should stay on board."  
  
He shook his head. "Not you. Rev said the Magog hit this system pretty hard. He's decided to stay onboard and meditate. Go on shore leave. That's an order."  
  
"Yes, Captain," she said brightly, happy to have had her objections overruled. As she left to find the crew, she smiled. She did enjoy leaving the ship once in a while, seeing and learning new things. This could be fun.  
  
~~  
  
When Rommie informed Beka that they had found a planet and were nearly in orbit, the blond changed clothes fast enough to amaze her. During all of her routine monitoring of the crew, she had never seen anyone move so quickly. The First Officer pounded her on the arm joyfully and raced for the Maru with a wide smile on her face.  
  
Watching after her, the avatar felt confusion. Rommie thought the First Officer liked being in space and hated planets. She decided to monitor the other woman. There might be something wrong. Beka was entirely too happy to leave the ship. It was out of character.  
  
After the tall woman was out of sight, she did something she seldom did. She broke through the Full Privacy Mode ordered by the First Officer and scanned her quarters. There was nothing unusual; a cold half cup of black coffee, mussed sheets lying partially on the floor, a plain, functional bra on the vanity and a flexi-novel face down on the bed. Casually, she scanned the contents of the novel. Suddenly, a flush crept over her face. The novel had explicit scenes, quite a few sexually explicit scenes. She had seen sex before in her data files and during her casual monitoring of her former crews, but this was far more extreme and replete with explanations of the emotions involved. It was new to her.  
  
"Oh, dear," she whispered, wondering if that was why Beka had departed so quickly. She ended her scan abruptly, restoring Full Privacy Mode. With a glance around the empty corridor, she hurried off to find the rest of the crew and hoped the unaccustomed flush on her cheeks faded before she met anyone else.  
  
~~  
  
Beka jogged through the passageways gleefully. This was her chance to find her own Perdue, her own man like the strapping hunk of manhood starring as pool boy in the novel The Sword of Desire. Sure, men like that probably didn't exist. Most of the men she had ever met had an agenda, a hidden reason for every action they ever took. Dylan, sweet, driven, naive Dylan, didn't make a move without first considering its impact on his Restored Commonwealth. Tyr normally only did things that helped Tyr. Harper took orders from his hormones. Even Rev Bem first considered how his actions helped spread light in the universe before he made a move. So, why should she get her hopes up that she might find a simple, straightforward man on the planet below? Because there's always a chance, she told herself silently. Besides, she didn't want to keep him, only borrow him for a little fun.  
  
She climbed aboard her ship and started her pre-flight checklist, humming to herself. She didn't have to read the checklist, she could do it in her sleep. So, her mind whirled with the possibilities that lay below. She trusted Dylan to thoroughly brief them all about the planet, its attractions and dangers, on the trip down. She let the excitement of the unknown swell within her. Romantic scenarios flitted through her mind as she rode the wave of anticipation. Finishing the checklist, she started the engines. She glanced over her shoulder, tapping her hands on the console impatiently. Where were the others? Rommie said they were all coming. Finally, she stood and paced Command, drumming on her thighs with each step.  
  
~~  
  
Trotting off the holographic stage, Harper slung his tool belt low around his hips. With a last glance at the young woman who took a bow for a crowd that wasn't there, he left the room in search of the components he would need to fulfill his dream.  
  
Rommie met up with him in a corridor. He was hunched over behind one of her service robots. She cocked her head as she tried to see what he was doing.  
  
"Harper? I can't read that Maria bot. It's no longer connected to my relays. What are you doing?"  
  
He straightened so quickly that he dropped his screwdriver. "Huh? Oh..." He gave her a sheepish grin, a flush creeping over his cheeks. "Hi, Rom-doll. Yeah, I know this bot's not connected. Poor little bugger got lost. I'm working on it now. Should have her booted up in an hour or so. So, don't worry your petite little prom queen-body self about it."  
  
She responded to the remark with a scowl. She had no idea what a prom queen was, but she knew Harper. Most of his references had to do with physical beauty and little else. "You have located the problem then? What made it go offline?"  
  
He blinked rapidly and swallowed hard, hoping she wouldn't notice. "Uh, no, I haven't located the problem. If I knew what was wrong, I could fix it in five minutes. You know me, the all-knowing, all-powerful engineering genius."  
  
She crossed her arms over her chest, arching a skeptical brow. "Your omnipotent powers aside, Harper, this bot can wait. Dylan wants you...all of us... aboard the Eureka Maru before 1300 hours. That leaves you only twenty-two minutes to wash up, comb your hair, change into clean clothes and run to the ship."  
  
"What? You're saying I'm grubby?" He peered down at himself, plucking the front of his dirt and grease stained shirt from his chest. He dropped it quickly and looked up at her through his lashes. "Okay, so I won't win a beauty contest and I don't really care about that 'cause there are more important things in life. Besides, I don't want to go just yet. I need to fix this."  
  
"No arguments, Harper," she barked, her voice leaving no room for protests. "Get cleaned up. Leave the bot and get ready NOW," she ordered. "I won't have you representing the High Guard and the Restored Commonwealth looking and smelling like a street beggar."  
  
He gritted his teeth. He really did want to leave and have fun, but the excitement of his new project made him tremble. Leaving it would be like giving up Sparky Colas for a day including the inherent caffeine withdrawal migraine. He could lose his momentum and not get it back. "But-"  
  
Her dark eyes narrowed then widened as she glared at him.  
  
He rolled his eyes in acquiescence. "All right, all right. A guy can't get anything done around here. Nag, nag, nag." He slapped the panel on the back of the bot shut and fastened it with the screwdriver.  
  
"And take a quick shower," Rommie said, waving a hand in front of her nose in distaste. "You'll scare away all of the natives."  
  
"Sheesh, Miss Picky," he said to her back as she hurried toward the hanger bay and the awaiting ship. He waited until she was out of sight then turned to the bot and commanded, "Go to the quarters of Seamus Harper and stay. My commands only." He grinned as the bot followed him back to his living quarters thankful that Rommie hadn't noticed anything unusual.  
  
TBC 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
  
Beka rubbed her hands together in anticipation and led the way with a one million-watt smile. At the bottom of the Maru's exit ramp, she took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of fuel, oil and the acrid odors of toasted wiring and welding. It smelled good-for a planet. The spaceport smelled much like the inside of a starship. She could detect the wayward scent of clean flowery air as the planet tried to wash away the stale stench of the spacecrafts. But, to her, the scents associated with machinery were beautiful. They smelled like home. So, she ignored the dim sunlight filtering through the thin cloud layer overhead and waited as the others gathered their wallets, purses and whatevers then followed her onto the open landing pad.  
  
No one greeted them. Overhead, large signs hung from metal supports indicating that all incoming persons were to proceed to Customs. A tinny voice carried on the thready breeze, issued from distant speakers. Its message repeated in every major galactic language, "Weapons are restricted to Varian Spaceport proper. No violations will be tolerated."  
  
The crew of the Andromeda Ascendant filed off the Eureka Maru, gazing around in interest at the variety of ships parked or landing near them. Tyr pointed out the various ships like a teacher lecturing a class, naming them and giving details about the species who flew them. They passed through a security scanner and a personal pat down before they could leave the landing pad. All weapons were confiscated, including nail files and pointed objects. The locals were very thorough. Once through the indignities of a hand search, Beka bounced in place with enthusiasm.  
  
"Come-on, Come-on," she muttered, arms crossed over her chest, tapping her forearm with one finger impatiently. One by one, her crewmates passed the checks, Tyr looking less than thrilled to be unarmed. Reluctantly, he handed over a variety of weapons, large and small. He scowled at the chunky man who took the armaments and thrust a receipt in his hand. Beka chuckled. If she knew Tyr, he still had weapons hidden on his body. Only a strip search and trained Nietzschean eye would find them all.  
  
Rommie and Trance bounced up beside her.  
  
"Do you see the mountains!" Trance said excitedly. "They're so high and..." She giggled. "They're the same color I am."  
  
The other two women smiled broadly, captured by the girl's joyous excitement. Her laughter was infectious.  
  
"So," Rommie said, turning to Beka, "where are we going first?"  
  
The blonde's eyes widened in surprise. It hadn't occurred to her that they would pair up. She glanced around nervously then smiled in apology. "Uh, well. I kind of wanted to go off on my own. I have business to take care of. But, you and Trance can have fun together. Trance, you can show her the sights, right? Take her shopping like we've always done."  
  
"Sure," said the purple girl, her tail twitching slowly, cat-like. "My stuff is together stuff, not alone stuff." She slipped an arm around the avatar's slim shoulders.  
  
"Great, thanks." Beka patted her on the arm and started to walk off.  
  
Dylan stopped her with a raised hand. He gathered the entire crew around him in a circle. "All right, everyone. Meet back at the Maru at 1200 tomorrow. That gives us nearly twenty-four hours of shore leave; plenty of time to work the kinks out. Have fun and...well...don't have TOO much fun, if you know what I mean." He smiled and strolled off, sightseeing.  
  
Beka bounced. "Cool! This is gonna be great! Bye!"  
  
"Good-bye," Rommie called, turning to see off the men. They had already dispersed, vanishing into the crowd and leaving the security checkpoints and the space dock behind as they entered the spaceport proper. Surprised, she turned back to Trance. "We're staying out all night?" she asked, a gust of chill mountain air carrying the perfume of fresh flowers billowing her short brunette hair around her face.  
  
Trance giggled. "No, we can always come back to the Maru. There are plenty of bunks in the crew quarters. But, who knows," she whispered conspiratorially, "we might find an all night mall or something. Wouldn't that be great?"  
  
The avatar's brow furrowed. "Mm, great."  
  
Trance took her arm, pulling her toward town, as indicated by a large sign giving directions to various points all over the spaceport. "I'm looking for a necklace. Something crystalline with sparkles and---"  
  
Rommie nodded attentively as they walked off and disappeared into the crowds.  
  
~~  
  
Beka prowled the edges of the restaurant bar that was supposed to have the best food and wildest brawls in the spaceport. Everyone she had stopped to ask and told her so. It had a gritty, vibrant atmosphere. Its smoky interior was very dark, lined with worn wooden paneling. The ceiling was aged, nicked and pitted by years of brawls. Some of the lights weren't working, but she didn't care. The small crowd had the feel of people who'd been there, done everything and she loved it immediately. She had purposely bypassed the friendlier town in favor of the seedy spaceport entertainment district. She wanted a man who wouldn't ask questions nor expect anything from her. Who knew, maybe she'd run into some of her old friends and thieves here. Slipping through the shadows, she surveyed the restaurant first and then the bar counter. There were several handsome men who were notably without partners.  
  
With a sly grin, she sidled up to the bar. The bartender, a willowy redhead, stood waiting for her order before she even sat on the stool.  
  
Beka smiled. "Cajun Sunset," she ordered.  
  
The bartender nodded and quickly mixed the drink. She set it before the blonde and held out a six-fingered hand for payment. As she slipped the credits into the woman's hand, Beka leaned forward.  
  
"So, which men are the losers?" she whispered conspiratorially. "Any wackos I should avoid? Any flash-heads to sidestep?"  
  
The redhead chuckled. "I stopped counting." Wiping a glass with a towel, she nodded almost imperceptibly at a tall dark and fiercely handsome man nearby. "Psycho. Wanted for murder in several systems and thinks no one notices when he snaps and breaks up the place." She set the glass behind the bar and rested her forearms on the polished wood, leaning close. "And that one, the one with the tattoos, he talks non-stop. Drives you crazy. That one over there, with the long wavy black hair, now he's a keeper. Seems really sweet. But, I've seen him take out five men in a fight, so the jury's still out. And there--" She nodded toward the door. "--is fresh meat."  
  
The blonde glanced over her shoulder and saw Dylan grinning in the doorway. He looked around but apparently didn't see her. "Terrific," she muttered. She couldn't even get away from him on shore leave. At the bartender's questioning look she said, "I know him. He's too nice. Kinda like dating a teddy bear."  
  
The redhead waggled her eyebrows and slunk off to take another customer's order.  
  
Beka turned, drink in hand, and assessed the longhaired man through lowered lashes. He had one of those timeless faces. It was impossible to judge his exact age, though he would be handsome no matter what. His face was strong, yet unassuming. His cheekbones were chiseled like the ancient Greek's. He sipped a beer slowly, savoring it, shifting to get more comfortable in his thick leather jacket. She could tell he was a fighter, perhaps a wanted man, by the way he kept watch on the room without seeming to look around. She grinned. He knew where everyone was and probably what weapons they had hidden.  
  
He looked mild, innocuous, like he would almost blend in with any crowd harmless or dangerous. Though he wasn't looking directly at he, she gave him a coy grin and peered down into the amber liquid of her drink. She swirled it, watching the whirlpool of red liqueur swirl in ribbons up from the bottom of the glass. He saw her. She was certain of it. She licked her full lips slowly, seductively. Running one long finger along the rim of her glass, she concentrated on her hair color. It needed to be tweaked just a little for the occasion. With a thought, some of the nanobots imbedded in her hair strands changed. Subtle highlights of amber and strawberry appeared in her normally white blonde hair, making her small waves and curls sparkle like jewel as she moved. Slowly, it grew longer. A few inches ought to do. Purposely, she shook her head just enough for her hair to catch the light. She made a show of slowly pulling up the hem of her satin sky blue dress to scratch an imaginary itch on her upper calf. She smiled, thinking of how difficult it had been to smuggle the dress off the Andromeda Ascendant without explaining it to her crewmates. She didn't want to appear to be a sleaze and the dress brought out her eyes. Scratching lightly, she tried to look sexy. That should get him. She could almost feel him looking at her leg.  
  
A moment later, she heard a rustle of leather beside her. She looked up through her lashes. He reclined against the bar, glancing at her and away with colorful hazel eyes. Strands of short dark hair escaped the gel that slicked it back to swing against his forehead.  
  
Hook, line and sinker, she thought and hid a triumphant grin.  
  
~~  
  
Harper strolled quickly through the spaceport with a bounce in his step. He passed many shops with peeling paint and colorful window displays. He paused outside one, the carved and painted sign said, "Blacksheep Tavern." A loud thrumming beat rattled the stained glass windows and the pavement beneath his shoes. He squinted through the thick, colored glass. Silhouettes of creatures, humanoid and not, milled about inside. Normally, he would jump right into a place like this. Tonight, though, he had a mission to accomplish before he allowed himself to be rejected countless times by the local women. He needed something for the new phase of his project. Something unusual, something he didn't have and couldn't ask for on the Andromeda. Swallowing hard and continuing to walk, he struggled to think of a way to sneak it on board the ship.  
  
The sun began to sink behind the craggy mountains encircling the spaceport and the town beyond it. Walking downhill, he passed various tourist shops with cheap, gaudy merchandise and restaurants with tantalizing smells drifting out. His mouth watered and stomach growled, but he kept moving.  
  
Eventually, he came to a tall concrete wall. As he passed through the narrow opening, he noticed how unusually thick the wall was. It was thicker than it-or he--was tall. A slightly rusted, yet sturdy wrought iron gate lay flat against the opening, allowing passage through. On the other side, a burly man in a simple green uniform nodded to him, his thick graying hair flopping out from under his spongy hat.  
  
"Better be back before ten unless you want to stay the night," the man called out in a gruff voice. "Gate's locked at ten."  
  
"Do I need a pass or somethin'?" Harper asked.  
  
The man shook his longhaired head. "Nope. You look like an offworlder. Don't need no pass. Just be back by ten. No one in or out. Gate's locked and the Guard is out patrollin' after ten. Don't want to be in town less'n you want to sleep in the streets durin' the nightly howler." He gave Harper a grin that made goosebumps break out on young man's arms.  
  
Harper had no idea what a 'howler' was, but decided on the spot that it wasn't something he wanted to know about. Images of the bogeyman flashed through his mind. He'd endured a lot of nights outside in all kinds of weather as a child, but there was something spooky about this place. For a moment, he wished he'd stayed onboard the Andromeda with Rev Bem. Quiet meditation didn't sound quite so boring now.  
  
He nodded nervously and waved in thanks to the man, though he had no idea what time it was locally. He suspected he had plenty of time and his mission shouldn't take long. Now he had motivation to hurry.  
  
Beyond the wall, the street was paved with cobblestones, making his footfalls ring pleasantly and his boots slip until he got used to walking on the uneven stones. The buildings all seemed to have a fresh coat of paint. The sidewalks were swept and the shops seemed neater, of a higher class. He peered up at each sign as he passed the shops, glancing into the windows.  
  
Suddenly, he stopped and smiled. There it was.  
  
~~  
  
"Where are we going next, Trance?" Rommie asked, an undercurrent of annoyance running through the words.  
  
Trance didn't notice. "Food. It's time for food. I'm so hungry and all of these smells, roasting meat and stuff, have me starving."  
  
Rommie lifted her bag-laden arms. "I'm not surprised. We've visited most of the shops in the city." She glanced around. "We should dine in the spaceport. It's approaching 10:00 p.m. local time and the gate guard said we wouldn't want to be locked into this part of town. The locals, friendly as the shopkeepers may be, roll up the streets at ten. There isn't a hotel within twenty kilometers. There's this 'howler' that I suspect is a strong weather system. And the bad element...." she allowed the words to trail off suggestively.  
  
Trance glanced over her shoulder nervously, and then peered at the red and orange streaked purple sky. "Well, it has gotten awfully dark, the wind is rising and we're a long way from the gate. You're right. We should go."  
  
The avatar nodded then cocked her head at the plum girl. She looked humanoid and very fragile, but Rommie's long-term observations of her suggested she had a strength that she kept hidden. She noticed Trance shiver and rub her upper arms. "Are you afraid?" she asked as they strode back toward the main avenue that led uphill to the gate.  
  
"Afraid?" Trance giggled softly. She glanced at the avatar from the corner of her eye. Her dark eyes twinkled as though she found the thought incredibly funny.  
  
"Yes, of the dark?"  
  
The other woman smiled. "The dark, no. What's in the dark or coming after you in the dark, yes. Sometimes."  
  
"Why do you assume something is coming after you...us?"  
  
Trance shrugged. "There usually is. The universe is a chaotic and dark, dangerous place. You have to keep your eyes open, Rommie. I know you're still not really good at this humanoid body type stuff. And I know you have enhanced robotic strength and stuff, but you still have to be careful. I always assume someone is out there looking for me so I'm prepared."  
  
Rommie considered in silence. The young woman had a point. She, too, had seen many unusual things in her lifetime as a warship: war, hurt, betrayal, death, and murder. Still, to give into pessimism led to fear. She couldn't fear the dark or the secrets it kept. She was a warship. Proud. Fearless. Strong. So, why did her heart race as the wind howled through the skeletal trees standing sentry over the cobblestone streets? Why did she now jump at shadows dancing in the twilight as the streetlamps ignited to paint dim yellow circles on the narrow sidewalks? Abruptly, she shook her head hard to rid herself of such ridiculous thoughts. She was the Andromeda Ascendant. She had nothing to fear.  
  
They passed a brightly lit shoe shop. The smell of leather and shoe polish wafted out through the open door. Overhead, night birds swooped and called. In the distance a loud creature snarled. Suddenly, the engines of a ship taking off from the spaceport roared, drowning out all other sound. Abruptly, the engine cut off. A bright spark of after burner streaked across the sky and vanished amongst the emerging stars. Ears ringing slightly, they watched it disappear.  
  
The sudden silence seemed at once refreshing and vaguely disquieting. Neither could put her finger on the source of their unease. Rommie attributed it to Trance's suggestion that they would be followed coupled with the guard's admonishment that the locals didn't want many off-worlders in their town after curfew and his eloquent tale of the frightening 'howler'. Off-worlders should stay in the spaceport, he said. She found herself focusing on passing sounds, listening for following footsteps. Unconsciously, both women increased their pace.  
  
~~  
  
By the time Harper left the shop, the last vestiges of color were quickly fading from the night sky. Weather-beaten cast iron streetlamps spit out faint circles of light, as if breathing their dying breaths. Clouds had started to obliterate the stars for what the spaceport introduction briefing called the 'nightly deluge.' He gave the dark clouds a smirk. He could deal with rain. He liked rain. He loved the smell and the feel of it. He didn't want his new purchase to get soaked and ruined, particularly after it took so long to get it just right. The rising breeze gusted heavy with the scent of rain. He shivered. It reminded him of home.  
  
Tugging the collar of his light jacket higher up his neck, he turned toward the spaceport, lights shining like a white beacon atop the hill. It seemed so far away. With no idea what the local time was, he started toward the lights at a brisk pace.  
  
The wind quickly began to rise. It howled through distant rock formations as it was forced down narrow cracks in the mountains. The smell of imminent rain drowned out the scents of cooking food. He shivered as the temperature dropped noticeably. Maybe this was why the joker at the gate told him to hurry back.  
  
He increased his pace. A noise behind him caught his attention. He whirled, staring into the darkest shadows. The streets were lit with dim street lamps. Shadows reached like clawing beasts. He swallowed hard, remembering childhood attacks. Furry, clawed Magog leaped from the darkness, clawing his family and friends to bits. Suddenly nauseous, he decided he'd run like Hell for the gate. He turned and ran straight into a wiry form.  
  
He jumped back and stammered an apology, "Oh, sorry dude. I didn't see you. Too dark out here, ya know." He smiled at the towering man.  
  
"Yes, I know." A venomous smile split his feral face. His long stringy hair whipped out about his narrow face like a black halo.  
  
"Uh, oh," Harper muttered. "Look, I was just headin' back to the spaceport, the huge, populated, well-lit spaceport. So, I ain't looking for trouble."  
  
The man shifted from foot to foot slowly, gracefully. "I am," he whispered.  
  
A feeling like icy water gushed down from the top of Harper's head to the tips of his toes. His body felt numb as it dropped into an ancient, defensive state. He was no stranger to fights for survival. He shoved his bag inside his shirt. "What do you want, ferret face? My bag? Think again. I came too far for this and I ain't giving it to a weasely big-nosed loser like you."  
  
The man smiled, his nearly colorless eyes narrowed and amused. He assessed the diminutive human with a slow glance. He chuckled. Just then, someone hit Harper from behind. He staggered forward. The tall man shoved him back. From the corner of his eye Harper saw the attacker behind him hefting a short pipe. Harper spun, grabbed the pipe and wrenched it from the person's hands. He swung it, catching the second attacker in the face. The person fell and didn't stand.  
  
The tall man kicked him in the shin. Pain knifed through his entire leg. He stumbled, swayed and swung the pipe. He heard the other man grunt in pain as the pipe broke a rib. Harper smiled, blood running down his face from a cut on his forehead. Anger, red and feral welled up inside him. He hissed in rage and rushed the man. The wiry man fell back onto the cobblestones. They rolled over twice, warring for dominance. The contents of Harper's pockets flew through the air. Harper fought like a wild beast, using every weapon nature gave him. He punched, scratched, bit, and finally head-butted the man. The man scurried away into the dark.  
  
The second attacker tried to scuttle away on hands and knees. In a rage, he reached out, grabbed a handful of the person's cloak and dragged them back. He didn't notice as chill rain began to fall on them, washing the blood away from his wounds. He punched the smaller person in the face several times. Suddenly, the hood fell back to reveal the face of a young woman, bleeding where the pipe had lain open her cheek. She whimpered, barely conscious. He faltered in his attack. Reason overwhelmed rage. He threw the woman away from him and sat up as the she slid down the rain slick street.  
  
"Take that you bastard!" he shouted, shaking a fist at the woman.  
  
He didn't see the wiry man standing behind him. With a snarl and gritted teeth, the man raised the pipe and hit him in the head. Harper slumped to the ground, unconscious.  
  
TBC 


	8. Chapter 8

Hope you're having as much fun reading this as I did writing it!  
  
Anna  
  
Chapter 8  
  
Beka rested her cheek against the soft leather of Connor's jacket. The comforting scents of worn leather, spicy cologne and shampoo mingled with the faint aroma of manly sweat. She shivered, closing her eyes. It was a perfect smell. Simultaneously it drove her wild and relaxed her, made her feel safe. He spun her slowly, guiding the dance. This was one night that she didn't demand to take the lead. Instinctively, she felt that this man was strong enough for both of them. She wouldn't let her guard down, but she would sit back and enjoy the ride.  
  
He spun her again and she opened her eyes. Suddenly, she stiffened, lifting her head from his shoulder. Across the room at the bar, Dylan sat chatting up a young woman. Of course, she was very beautiful. The beautiful flocked to him like bees to flowers. Beyond him, Tyr leaned forward and kissed a tall, striking woman. Beka frowned; feeling slightly betrayed. She wasn't good enough for Tyr, the model of all Nietzscheans, but he'd satisfy his desires with a stranger? It made no sense. She rested her chin back on Connor's shoulder, squeezing her lips shut tightly. She tried to ignore the sight of the two men so vital to her life moving away from her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned her head and nestled into the hollow of Connor's neck and shoulder. He was taller than she was so it was a natural position.  
  
Screw them, she thought. They stared at her when they thought she wasn't looking. They danced around innuendo with her. Crap, she stared too. They were beautiful figures of men and she shouldn't have to stave off the flow of attraction for either of them. How dare they find willing women so easily and never even consider asking her?  
  
She gritted her teeth, her anger building. Connor pushed her back slightly, bending to peer into her face with eyebrows raised in question. Tiny gold sparkles swirled in his hazel eyes, now a muddled brown-gold. She stared up into those eyes and suddenly leaned forward, taking his lips into hers. He kissed her back without hesitation. She felt the fire deep inside him. His kiss was tender and passionate, reserved and wild. When she pulled away, she was breathless. With one hand she reached up and stroked the faint trace of whiskers on his cheek and chin.  
  
Screw Dylan. Screw Tyr.  
  
Connor pulled her closer to him, molding her body to his.  
  
"Let's go," she whispered into his ear.  
  
He met her gaze to be certain. Then he smiled and led her from the smoky room.  
  
~~  
  
Tyr glanced up in time to see Beka slip out the door, arms wrapped around a tall dark-haired man. Regret and longing seized his stomach. Seeing her leave with another man and knowing deep inside where they were going angered him. His fingers clenched around the wrist of the woman, Melina, with whom he sat. She yelped in pain and yanked her hand away. Startled, he looked away from the door, released her and apologized. When he returned his gaze to the door, Beka and her date were gone.  
  
He breathed deeply to soothe his anger, trying to examine his feelings. Why should he rationalize his need for physical comfort? Why should a human woman toss his emotions into this hurricane? As the deep breaths slowly calmed him, he knew why and he knew that he was in denial. It was safer that way. He could shout to the world that he was attracted to Beka, an inferior...a human. Or, he could save face and play the Nietzschean Alpha Male to the hilt. Admitting any amount of attraction for her could jeopardize the future he had planned for himself in the grand scheme of Nietzschean evolution. Certainly, many Nietzschean males allowed themselves to assuage their physical needs with a lesser woman...provided they took measures to ensure there would be no procreation. Beka Valentine would not stand for such a relationship. He knew that. He refused to even ask her. And, he refused to throw away his future for an inferior. So be it. He could live with that. Yes. He could. Couldn't he?  
  
With a sexy grin, he turned back to Melina, massaging her barely injured wrist and nuzzling the nape of her long neck.  
  
~~  
  
Trance stopped to rub her calves. She hopped on one foot for a moment, while rubbing the other.  
  
"Is there a problem?" Rommie asked, concern on her amazingly life- like face. The wet wind lifted her short dark hair up like giant fingers, and then dropped it into her face. She shook it aside in a gesture quite human.  
  
The purple girl grimaced and blew a raindrop from the tip of her nose. "I didn't realize it was so far. Walking uphill makes my legs hurt."  
  
Rommie squinted at the fluorescent white lights shining like beacons into the increasing dark and stormy night. "We have 2.54 miles to go and only..." she paused and did a mental calculation, "37 minutes to get there. That's plenty of time at our previous pace, however, if you're having problems we may not make it."  
  
Trance gave her an exasperated look. "We'll make it. We'll make it, even though I'll probably have pneumonia and be lame for life."  
  
"We only have to pass through the gate."  
  
"I know. I-" Her words were cut off by the rumbling of a large horse drawn cart rushing by down the cobblestone street. The loud racket of horse hooves and metal wheels on wet stone drowned out all other sounds. "Wow, horses? I thought they had air cars."  
  
Rommie stared after the carriage, pondering the implications. "Deso Ambulance Service," she said. "The carriage was an ambulance." She frowned, listening intently. About a half-mile up the hill, she saw a small crowd gathered. Men in simple green uniforms, like that of the gate guard, typed on small data pads. She could see flashes of ambient light from their accouterments. She decided they were rank insignia. Local police, she surmised. She wanted to switch paths, avoid the local authorities altogether. But this was the most direct route to the spaceport. There wasn't time to try another path. "Trance, this doesn't look like a very good part of town."  
  
"It doesn't?"  
  
The avatar met her companion's wide, frightened gaze. Despite her obvious superiority, Trance could be extremely child-like. Rommie decided not to tell her what she had seen. "We should go. We're running out of time."  
  
The girl nodded quickly. They strode up the hill at an increased pace with Trance limping slightly.  
  
By the time they reached the area where Rommie had seen the police, the street was deserted. The rain increased its tempo whipped into an intermittent fevered dance by gusts of strong wind. Soaked and miserable, Trance pulled her into the shelter of a storefront.  
  
"Give me the bag," Trance said.  
  
"What?" Rommie shouted over the whistle of the wind.  
  
"The blue one. The blue bag has a jacket in it. I need it now. I'm freezing to death!"  
  
Rommie fished into the blue bag and handed Trance a black jacket lined with fur from a local animal and rimmed with gold and white feathers. Trance slipped into it quickly. While she fastened it, the avatar surveyed the area, searching for signs of whatever the police and ambulance had been doing. She could see the faint signs of a struggle; a tiny piece of torn fabric, a faint trace of blood in the street.  
  
Beside her, Trance bent down then straightened. "Rommie," she said her voice wavering.  
  
Rommie turned. Trance held out something shiny in the palm of her hand. She met the avatar's gaze fearfully, tears glistening in her huge dark eyes.  
  
The avatar reached out and took the small medallion and its broken chain. There was no doubt. On the back it said, 'Seamus Harper.' And trapped in the etched letters were traces of crusted blood.  
  
Trance whimpered, tears falling to mingle with the cold rain on her cheeks.  
  
Rommie shook her head sadly, putting an arm around the girl to comfort her. "We don't have time to look. The gate is closing and there's no place for us to stay. It isn't safe. We'll find him tomorrow."  
  
Trance jerked away from her. "No. You go back if you want to, Rommie. I'm staying!"  
  
"Trance," Rommie's tone held sympathy and admonishment.  
  
The purple girl gave her a desperate look. "I wouldn't want you guys to leave me out here," she said softly.  
  
The avatar sighed. "We'll stay then."  
  
Suddenly, an inhuman shriek pierced the rainy night. Both women froze. The tiny hairs on Trance's arm stood and quivered in terror. "What was that?" she gasped as her racing heart clawed at her chest.  
  
The shriek abruptly came again, echoing, carried on the wind. Lights in the shops around them snapped off, leaving the street illuminated only by the dim streetlamps, swaying in the wind.  
  
Rommie shook her head, surveying the splattering rain and gloomy shadows. Leaves and papers swept by on the rising wind. "It's not close. It's coming down from the mountains."  
  
The shriek sliced through the comforting patter of the raindrops on cobblestones. Instead of dying quickly, it settled into a low howl, like the moan of the dead. Trance swallowed hard. "The mountains? But they're so far away and that definitely sounds close by."  
  
The avatar took her hand. "If we're going to look for Harper, we need to start now."  
  
Trance met her eyes in the gloom. "It's so dark," she shouted over the howl.  
  
"The shopkeepers have all gone."  
  
"Everything is closed? Who'll tell us where places are? Oh, Rommie, this doesn't look good. Not good at all."  
  
"It's only the wind, Trance."  
  
The girl looked worried and terrified.  
  
The moan slowly trailed off, leaving the scratching sound of leaves on stone and the slashing rain on the window glass of the dead shops. Trance clutched her jacket tightly around her neck. Her eyes suddenly glazed over as her gaze turned inward. Suddenly, clarity returned. Her hand shot out and snatched at Rommie's thin sleeve. "We have to go. We really have to go. It isn't safe out here for us. When does the gate close?"  
  
Rommie frowned, puzzled by her abrupt change in attitude. "Twelve minutes, twenty-four seconds."  
  
Trance dug her fingernails into the avatar's arm as the shriek jolted them again. She had the overwhelming feeling that a banshee was about to pounce on them from out of the dark. She tugged at the smaller woman's arm. "We can do it," she shouted, hair tousled wildly by the wind, rain pounding her face.  
  
Rommie took her hand, clutching all of their bags in one hand and pulled her in the direction of the gate, ignoring the slippery pavement, the slashing rain and the howl that defied logic, seeming to gain on them as they sprinted up the slope to the distant gate.  
  
They reached it as the gate guard started to pull it closed. Trance doubled over in pain, wheezing for breath with tears mixing with the cold rain on her numb cheeks. The man took a long look at their faces and swung the gate wide, letting them pass. He chuckled under his breath as he locked the gate behind them and scurried into the darkness on his way home.  
  
They fell into each other's arms inside the spaceport, brightly lit at all hours. The brilliant white light seemed to hold back the howl, corralling it and the storm. Cold, exhausted and shivering, they quickly made their way back to the safety of the Eureka Maru.  
  
TBC 


	9. Chapter 9

Hi! Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday and a happy holiday season!  
  
Enjoy! Anna  
  
Chapter 9  
  
Beka, replete and drowsy in the aftermath of a few hours of getting cozy with Connor, gazed out the window of the spaceport's largest hotel, the Parador. She clutched the cotton sheet tightly around her, listening as the heavy rain steadily lightened until it was a shimmering misty veil over the city and mountains. She opened the sliding glass door leading to the balcony and stepped out. The howling wind had died suddenly two hours before, leaving a pleasant whispering breeze. She shivered as the lightly misting rain kissed her bare skin. Normally she abhorred weather, particularly extreme weather like rain, snow, heat or cold. But this mist was tolerable, pleasant even.  
  
Maybe it's the man, she thought.  
  
She smiled wistfully at the low buildings of town spread out in glistening, twinkling lights below her. Chimneys allowed curls of pungent woodsmoke to curl into the mist. The Parador stood on the edge of the spaceport. The balcony was almost directly above the wall that cordoned off the spaceport from the town. After tying the sheet under her arm, she rested her forearms on the dripping railing. It was cold, smooth and solid against her skin, reminding her of the Maru.  
  
"It's beautiful," said Connor, padding up behind her in bare feet.  
  
She started and turned quickly, giving him an embarrassed smile as he lightly rested his hands on her bare waist. She shivered, his touch sending rivulets of fire coursing through her body. He grinned and she felt her stomach quiver. He was quite a handsome man. Laughing nervously, she slipped her arms around his waist, pulling him close. He kissed her softly. Relaxed, their arms wrapped around each other, they turned toward the view before them.  
  
As far as the mist would allow them to see were flickering golden lights. Only the pounding of Beka's heartbeat broke the gentle hiss of the rain hitting the ground. "Beautiful," she murmured, "like stars."  
  
He tightened his arm around her waist briefly. The breeze ruffled his black hair. "You miss the stars, don't you?"  
  
She nodded, shooting him an almost apologetic look. "It's my home. I was born in space. Lived all my life in space. I wasn't created to live on a planet."  
  
"Too bad," he said wistfully.  
  
She gave him a sideways look. "Why? You planning to homestead here?"  
  
He grinned, ducked his head bashfully. "I don't know. The place has a quaint charm. Horses and buggies. Cobblestone streets and handmade goods. It's like being back in ancient England or something. All we need are some howling wolves on the moors or the Hound of the Baskervilles and we'll be in an ole holo-vid. The people are nice if you get to know them."  
  
She smiled skeptically. "Ancient England, huh? And where's that?"  
  
He studied her face in surprise. "Earth." He laughed and hugged her tightly. "Forgive me. Don't know why I always assume everyone has heard of Earth."  
  
"I've heard of it. Been there even. My Engineer is from there. Sounds like Hell with the Magog and the Nietzscheans."  
  
He shrugged. "Wasn't always that way. And those two bunches of demons spread their Hell over most of the three galaxies," he all but growled.  
  
She reached out and stroked his cheek. "Thank God the Magog and Nietzscheans have left most of the worlds they invaded and ruined."  
  
"Swept through like locusts," he said bitterly. "Things like this go in cycles. There's always someone else ready to oppress the innocents."  
  
She turned back to the town, emotions roiling at the thought of a new invader. They stood in silence until the first fingers of dawn crept over the mountains on the other side of the valley and spread out in talons of orange and pink. She nestled back into his arms. Calm emanated from him and soaked through her skin. Eventually, fear of the future faded and her eyelids drooped half-closed in contentment. The aroma of roasting meat and baking bread wafted up to them on the cool breeze. Her stomach growled.  
  
He chuckled. "We'd better have them send up some food."  
  
"Sounds yummy."  
  
"Won't be as good as what you smell down there, though. The spaceport only buys a limited amount of local meat and produce. Local laws. The government doesn't want many of us 'undesirable aliens' to get used to the place."  
  
"They don't want us to stay so they won't give us food?"  
  
He tossed her his white linen pirate shirt and sat on the edge of the bed to call room service. "Give you all you want if you go down there." He took the phone from his ear. "We could go down there to eat, if you'd like. It'll be another two hours before the gate opens, though."  
  
She smiled broadly, tugging the expansive shirt over her head quickly. "Can't wait." She crawled across the bed to him, waggling her eyebrows. "We don't want to be gone that long anyway."  
  
He grinned and kissed her hard on the lips. When they broke apart he dialed room service and ordered quickly.  
  
Midway through their meal, Beka waved her fork over the mass of food. "So, what do you do that you could afford all of this? Room service is notoriously expensive."  
  
He chewed his steak and swallowed it. "I'm temporary Liaison to the Government of Dachshund."  
  
Her eyebrows flew up in surprise. "You negotiate with the planetary government? Impressive."  
  
He shrugged. "For now. I don't normally stay in one place too long. But, this is a fascinating planet. They have a lot of secrets that don't get out."  
  
"But they told you?" she said past a spoonful of cheesy eggs.  
  
"No. But I'm not stupid. I know people. I know how things work. I've been around. In ways, this whole planet is very similar to ancient Earth, in others it's as alien as anything I've ever seen. I used to work a Slipstream freighter that went everywhere."  
  
"Um, I own a Slipstream ship that goes everywhere so I know what you mean. Must be a nice cushy job."  
  
He chuckled, sipping his strong sweet local coffee. "Not usually. The locals are fairly easygoing, but they have strict rules. Most of the problems come from off-worlders going into town and acting stupid. It's the off-worlders who give me grief. Anyway, I'm here, for now. I may move on again. I may not. The official Liaison Officer should return from his...vacation in a couple of months. Then I'll be out of a job."  
  
"Vacation?" she questioned.  
  
He glanced at her and saw a knowing twinkle in her eye. He shrugged. "There's speculation that he abandoned the position. Couldn't handle the locals anymore. They found his keys in his room, cold coffee in a cup on the table with his uneaten breakfast. No trace of him. So, no one knows what happened. We only know he wasn't happy, or so they tell me. I never met the man."  
  
As rays of dawn sunlight slanted through the window and painted the table, the glasses gleamed with brilliant golden highlights. Savoring each bite, they finished their breakfast. He tossed his napkin down onto the table and watched her, satiated. She downed the last of her local coffee, noting how rich the nutty sweet taste was. Their eyes met across the empty plates, cups and bowls.  
  
"I have several hours until rendezvous," she challenged, waggling her eyebrows.  
  
"We'd best not waste them," he returned, standing and extending his hand a sexy grin on his face.  
  
She took it and allowed him to guide her back to the rumpled bed. The roar of starship engines drowned out the sounds of early morning birds outside as the overnight curfew ended.  
  
~~  
  
Nightmares stalked Trance. Harper's screams as he was torn apart by ferocious feral unseen dream-beasts left her sweating. She awoke gasping, twisted up in her thin sheet. Kicking at it in a panic, she clawed at the air to fend off the dream attacker. Suddenly, coming fully awake, she whimpered, tears coursing down her cheeks and mingling with a fine sheen of sweat. In her dream, he was dead. He was torn to bits before her helpless eyes.  
  
"Trance?" Rommie said softly, perched on the edge of her bed, legs crossed gracefully. The plum colored girl started.  
  
"Rommie?" she sobbed.  
  
The avatar stroked clumps of sweat soaked hair back from her forehead, smiling maternally. "I tried to wake you. You were too deep in the nightmare."  
  
Trance nodded. "It was horrible," her whisper was barely audible. In a rush, she leaned up and hugged the avatar around the waist.  
  
Uncertain what to do, Rommie patted the girl's back, rubbing small circles in an attempt to offer comfort. When Trance continued to sob she wrapped her arms around the girl and held her as she had seen some of her crew do in the past. It helped. Soon, Trance's sobs tapered off and she pushed away, wiping her eyes.  
  
"Sorry," Trance said, "I don't normally let dreams affect me so much."  
  
"I understand. You have strong feelings for Harper."  
  
"Is it that obvious?" Trance asked, alarmed.  
  
Rommie smiled. "No. I can tell because I can monitor things like your pulse and respiration, and other bodily systems, though most of your systems are an enigma. I can still detect tiny changes in body language that most humans can't see. And, you're wearing his necklace."  
  
The girl's eyes widened. "Oh."  
  
"Don't worry. I'm not spying on you. I monitor the entire crew to ensure they're at peak efficiency. And I ensure there are no significant problems."  
  
"But, how do you know if something's wrong? I mean, you aren't human and haven't been in a humanoid body for very long."  
  
The avatar frowned. "My database of humanoid behavior is quite extensive. Perhaps, it's an extrapolation? I don't really know."  
  
"Well, I need to find Seamus. I have the feeling something's wrong." She clutched the chain and medallion that were his.  
  
"I agree." Rommie's eyes glazed momentarily as she checked her internal chronometer. "The gate should open in fifteen minutes, thirty-five seconds. I suggest you shower and change clothes. You'll feel better."  
  
Trance nodded.  
  
Twenty minutes later, showered and changed, both women marched through the bustling spaceport, elbowing their way through the crowds of workers toward the gate. The workers were easily distinguishable from the travelers and starship crews as they all wore the drab gray jumpsuit of spaceport personnel. The crews were dressed in a variety of dark or colorful clothing. The buildings around them buzzed to life, noises of ships starting and taking off made it difficult to talk. The stench of fuel, oil and scorched atmosphere filled the air.  
  
They arrived at the gate to find a line of people filing through. Most were locals who had spent the night doing questionable things. Others were off- worlders in search of a decent breakfast.  
  
Trance bounced in place impatiently. "What's taking so long? Who're all of these people?"  
  
"The gate is only so big, Trance. And, Dylan told me they check ID's for the locals."  
  
The girl frowned. "They need to hurry. Harper could be dead."  
  
"He's not dead. Don't even think that. You'll just upset yourself," Rommie said.  
  
The other woman nodded quickly. "Where should we begin looking? The bars? The hotels?"  
  
"The hospital," Rommie realized, dread darkening her eyes.  
  
They found the hospital quickly based upon directions the stubby gate guard gave them. It was an imposing five-story red stone building that looked more like a giant library than a hospital. The windows were small, dark and far between.  
  
"Kinda scary, huh?" Trance said.  
  
Rommie studied the building. "Mm, I see traces of ancient Greek architecture in the façade near the roof. There are ancient Persian influences, too. Perhaps, they had an outpost here years ago."  
  
"I don't want to go in," Trance said, her wavering voice heavy with the threat of tears.  
  
The avatar patted the other woman's back and gave her a sympathetic smile. "He's okay. It was an ambulance wagon, not the mortician."  
  
"Oh, well that makes it all better," Trance responded sarcastically.  
  
Rommie started up the huge stone steps. "We have to go."  
  
After a long moment, the purple girl scampered up after her, eyeing the large wooden double doors with trepidation. They were cracked and weathered, cherry wood. The gold painted hinges squealed as Rommie opened them.  
  
Inside was the polar opposite of the outside of the building. Brightly lit and painted in soft pastel colors, the lobby was a hive of activity. Happy music floated through the air and the smells of eggs, bacon and baking bread made Trance's stomach rumble. The two women stopped in shock.  
  
"Are we in the same place?" Trance whispered. "Or did we walk through a slipstream rift into another building?"  
  
"Apparently, it's what's on the inside that really counts here."  
  
They sought out the receptionist's counter. The emerald colored countertop was festooned with brightly colored flowers.  
  
Squaring her shoulders, Rommie marched up to the reception counter. The woman behind the desk looked up, surprise crossing her full face as her violet eyes took in the women before her. Trance gave her a quick, nervous smile.  
  
"We're looking for a man, an off-world man," the avatar said.  
  
The woman smiled professionally and thumbed through a thick notebook. "'e was brought in today?" she asked in a thick accent that dropped the h's.  
  
"No, last evening. His name is Seamus Harper. Physical description: approximately 27, 5'7" tall, weight 140 pounds, blond hair, blue eyes. He has a data port on his neck and a tattoo on his left shoulder. And he tends to talk non-stop."  
  
She flipped a few pages, flipped back. "Ah. 'Ere we have an entry. A couple was brought in by the police."  
  
"A couple?" Trance inquired, surprise and hurt prancing across her face.  
  
"Ah, yes. A young woman and a man with your description. Both were unconscious."  
  
"Was he hurt badly?" Rommie asked.  
  
"No. Not too badly. 'E did awaken."  
  
She smiled. "What room is he in? We'd like to see him."  
  
The woman checked the record. "Oh, 'e is not 'ere, I am afraid. 'E was taken by the local Magistrate."  
  
"What?" Trance's eyes were huge with distress and confusion.  
  
"Ah, I am afraid we do not 'ave that information. They do not tell us why when they take people away and we do not question."  
  
Trance turned to Rommie. "What? What does she mean? What's a Magistrate?"  
  
"A judge, Trance. He's been taken to see the judge of a police court." The avatar tucked her dark hair behind her ears and asked the receptionist, "What's the most direct route to the Magistrate's office?"  
  
~~  
  
Harper slowly banged his forehead against the bars of his cell ignoring the dank, damp smell of his surroundings and wishing this were all a dream. It was no dream.  
  
"And what was up with those nurses," he muttered to himself for he was alone in his little Hellhole. "Leave it to you, Seamus, to get clobbered by some weirdo and stuck in the only hospital with nurses who look like your Grandma. And those flowers...."  
  
Grimacing against the stabbing pain in his head, he stopped banging and waited for the dizziness and circling twinkling fairy lights to fade from his vision. "You coulda been at your own funeral. Frell, maybe they recycle them." He shivered, having a vision of his room full of flowers surrounding an old man's coffin, fragrance masking the aroma of death.  
  
"Shut yer trap, Alien!" someone yelled from down the cellblock.  
  
"Yeah," said another, "or we'll cut out yer larynx, Whiner."  
  
"Like to see you try, Wimps!" he growled back at them.  
  
Laughter echoed down the clammy dim hall between the cells. Harper realized they knew he couldn't back up his words while stuck behind bars. The stench of old alcohol and unwashed bodies wafted over him, caused by the movement of the men. His stomach heaved. His head spun.  
  
"Let me outta here and I'll show you what's funny! Take you all on and kick your asses."  
  
More laughter followed.  
  
"Ah," said a third man, "I 'eard he was whipped by a slip of a girl!"  
  
The laughter echoed eerily, making his head pound.  
  
"Hey, she was already out. Some wacko with white eyes shanghaied me. Hit me from behind like a friggin' coward!" The men fell silent. Harper swore he heard some of them muttering under their breaths. "What? What? I can hear you. Not such a wimp now, am I? Huh? Huh? Am I?"  
  
"Ah, hush, Lad," said the third man from the cell beside his. "Ya don't want that one to 'ear ya and come callin' again. You're lucky to still 'ave all your vitals."  
  
"Oh, yeah? Well, he's lucky I had my back turned cause I'd have-"  
  
"That's enough! He's a demon, Lad. A spirit. Not 'uman nor beast. Not many who see 'im live the night. Say your prayers and count your blessings to still be amongst the livin'."  
  
Harper rolled his eyes. Superstition. The man he'd seen was definitely spooky, but he was a man made of flesh and blood. Harper ran his hands through his hair, washed and soaped by the nurses. A narrow bandage wrapped around his head, holding a thick gauze pad in place at the base of his skull. Briefly, he wondered if the little witch who had attacked him had made off with his package. He started to ask the man in the cell next to his about the girl. Was she supposed to be a demon, too? However, his train of thought derailed when the sound of keys rattling against a door lock echoed down the cellblock. He stiffened, gripping the bars until his fingers turned white. He pressed his cheek against them, anxious to see who was coming. A large guard lumbered into view, pausing before each cell in turn and checking to see if the prisoners were still there.  
  
"Hey! Hey, Lame Brain," Harper snapped, "I have a question."  
  
The guard slowly made his way over, ignoring him. Eventually, he stopped before the bars to Harper's cell, and flicked a finger against the diminutive man's forehead.  
  
"Ow!" Harper clutched his forehead. Suddenly angry, he lunged for the bars.  
  
The guard stuck a hand through and shoved him backward onto his backside.  
  
Gritting his teeth, he took a deep breath and stood, crossing his arms over his chest in barely mustered calm. "What about my one phone call? I'm supposed to get a phone call to anyone I want."  
  
The lumbering man's huge wide face split into a wet smile, exposing dirty teeth with a missing canine. The odor of his fishy breakfast bathed the small man's face like a tidal wave. Harper gagged.  
  
Anger surged in Harper making his hands tremble and stomach quiver. He dug his fingernails into his biceps, willing himself not to plunge his arms between the bars and beat the crap out of the moron. "And what the Hell's so funny, Loser?"  
  
Soft laughter rumbled deep in the man's throat. "We 'ave no phones, Alien. You can send a carrier pigeon, if you'd like."  
  
Harper's mouth dropped open. What kind of planet had a modern seedy spaceport and no phones or electronic communications relays? The guard laughed again and continued on, still chuckling. The engineer pressed himself against the bars again. "Hey! Hey, wait! What about breakfast? I'm wasting away in here!"  
  
The slam of the heavy door at the other end of the cellblock was his only answer.  
  
"Crap," he muttered and stumbled over to fall onto his threadbare bunk, head spinning with pain. "Just great, Seamus," he whispered so softly no one else could hear, "blow your only chance to meet chicks, get a friggin' concussion and feel like crap, and lose your goody bag." He sighed deeply, envisioning the service android waiting patiently in his quarters onboard the Andromeda Ascendant. A smile turned up the corners of his mouth. "At least you still have your project. You won't be alone for long."  
  
TBC in ch 10 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
  
Trance scowled up at the plum colored sky, less than amused that it almost matched her skin tone. She felt bereft, despite the bustle of cheerful natives passing them. Everyone seemed to start work late here. After a good night's sleep, she supposed bitterly as she recalled her nightmares, and a hearty breakfast. The vestiges of the aroma of cooking sausage and baking bread lingered in the air. Her stomach growled. She forced her hunger away. She was too queasy to eat.  
  
"We should hurry," Rommie told her, "if we want to find and free Harper before the rendezvous."  
  
Trance jogged to catch up to the rapidly walking avatar. "Wait, you don't think we should tell Dylan about this? Maybe he can help get Harper out of jail when we find him."  
  
The petite brunette shook her head, a determined look on her face. "No. Dylan doesn't need the stress of another of Harper's goof-ups. We'll handle this ourselves."  
  
They found the jailhouse easily. It was a tall red brick building with flowers planted around it and windows only on the first floor. Rommie pushed open the huge wooden doors that the natives seemed to favor with ease. Inside, she strolled directly over to the desk.  
  
"We're here to see the Magistrate," she stated, dropping into a military stance that meant business.  
  
The man looked up, startled by her forceful tone. Flat, bored eyes accentuated his dull face. "'e's busy, Miss. You'll 'ave to wait."  
  
She met his gaze levelly. "Most likely he only just arrived at work. My name is Andromeda and I need to speak with him in regard to a prisoner."  
  
The man smiled. "And would that be the little smarty pants who keeps yelling in our cellblock?"  
  
The two women exchanged looks. "Probably," Trance said with a shrug.  
  
He shook his head, dislodging a clump of greasy salt and pepper gray hair into his eyes. "I'll ring up the Magistrate. Glad to be rid of that one, we will."  
  
A smile flickered across Trance's face. For once, Harper's annoying habits came to good use.  
  
~~  
  
Ten minutes later, they stood before a dour faced old man. His droopy jowls and deep wrinkles told Rommie he'd seen a lot in his many years. His blue eyes danced with wisdom and intelligence. Recognizing the elderly man's air of authority, she automatically fell into the At Ease stance, legs shoulder width apart, palms crossed behind her back. Patiently, she waited for him to speak.  
  
He observed them silently for several long moments, looking between them and the file on his glossy mahogany desk. Finally, he spoke, "You want Master Harper, then?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Rommie replied instantly. "He is a member of my crew and is vital to the operation of our ship."  
  
"Do you know what he's done, Miss Andromeda?"  
  
"Only rumors, Sir. My data is incomplete."  
  
He sat back in his huge, soft chair, steepling his fingers before him. "He's accused of assaulting a young local woman. She was found unconscious beside him. We determined that she was not accompanying him, if you know what I mean. Rather, he attacked her. She is still in a coma in the hospital."  
  
"Excuse me, Mr. Magistrate," Trance interjected timidly, "but that doesn't sound like Harper at all. He loves women, all women. He'd never hurt one."  
  
The Magistrate narrowed his eyes meeting her gaze. Apparently deciding she was telling the truth, he leaned forward and flipped through the file. "Even so, Miss, everyone is capable of heinous acts when provoked. At first, we believed he was trying to rob her, but that is not what happened. The shopkeeper verified that he purchased the contents of his bag. She tried to take it from him. She is a thief from the mountain village of one of my deputies. Make sure you collect the bag from the deputy at the desk before you go."  
  
"So," said Rommie, "if she was robbing him then he should be released soon?"  
  
The Magistrate shook his immaculately combed head. "Ah, no. He injured the young lady. We know he did that. A baker heard noises and witnessed that part of the exchange. He must face trial for assault...if she lives. If not, he'll face trial for murder."  
  
The room wavered around Trance. She swayed in place, automatically clutching Harper's medallion, hanging around her neck.  
  
~~  
  
Beka kissed Connor good-bye. She clung to him, prolonging the kiss. For some reason, she couldn't bear to see him go. She'd never felt this way about a one-night stand before. Maybe it was the way his eyes twinkled with good humor, or the rippling muscles covering his gorgeous body. She didn't know. She'd tried to figure it out, but couldn't.  
  
He broke the kiss gently and held her. After a long moment he whispered, "I really do have to go to work."  
  
She nodded, cheek against his shoulder.  
  
"You sure you don't want to stay?"  
  
She chuckled bitterly. "Can't. Too many obligations." She pushed away and gave him a smile that teetered on the verge of tears. "Besides, planets and I don't get along." She played with the zipper on his battered brown leather jacket. "But if you ever decide to blow this joint, look me up. I'll be on the Eureka Maru or the Andromeda Ascendant, trying to right the wrongs of the universe."  
  
"Super woman," he said with a broad smile, face crinkling pleasantly around his eyes.  
  
She smiled. "That's me. Defender of the downtrodden."  
  
"Me, too," he said. "And you wouldn't believe how many there are here." With a finger under her chin, he tried to raise her gaze to his. She turned away, unwilling to let him see the slight sheen of tears welling up in her blue eyes.  
  
He sighed and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against her temples. "You have my com codes. If you don't keep in touch I'll come after you."  
  
"Promise?" she whispered eyes closed.  
  
He tightened his arms around her. "Yes," he breathed into her ear. "I've never had a woman affect me so quickly."  
  
"I know the feeling." She turned and kissed him, hard, deep and passionate. When they finally broke away, both were breathless. Eyes closed, she pushed him back, whirled and strode away without looking back. He stood and watched her go until the rushing crowds of anonymous workers swallowed her up. Pulling up his collar against he cool morning breeze, he turned and trudged toward his office, high in one of the sterile gray spaceport buildings.  
  
Suddenly bereft, Beka stopped and turned, searching for him in the crowd. Eventually she spotted him walking away with shoulders slumped. Her stomach clenched. She hadn't said good-bye. Frell, she didn't want to say good-bye. She wanted to stay. She wanted him to come with her. She knew she couldn't ask. He said over and over how he loved this little backwater rim planet and his current, if possibly temporary, job. Maybe after his job was finished...frell, who was she kidding? No man ever came after her unless she owed him money. She decided to return to the Maru early, have some time alone and prepare for departure. Suddenly, she couldn't bear to see this blasted planet for another minute.  
  
"Beka!" She heard someone call as she started to walk off. Her heart leapt. Was it Connor? "Beka, wait, Beka!" Came the call again. This time she recognized Rommie's voice. Ice water crashed over her. Abruptly numb, she turned, seeking the avatar.  
  
Trance and Rommie sprinted up to her. The plum girl panted from exertion, doubling over.  
  
Beka frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "What is wrong with you two? Out for a morning marathon?"  
  
Rommie cocked her head, sensing the physical effects of Beka's whirling emotions. "We have a problem. Are you all right?"  
  
Beka met her eyes briefly. "Yeah. Of course. What's the problem? Oh, let me guess, Harper? What's the little idiot done now?"  
  
Rommie shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. She didn't like to tattle, but Harper really needed their help. "He's been arrested for assaulting a thief. A woman. She tried to steal from him and he-"  
  
"Pummeled her," Trance finished. "She's in a coma. They don't know if she'll be okay yet. But, he's okay. Stayed one night in the hospital and now he's in jail."  
  
"I suspect that if they let us treat her onboard ship, she'd make a full recovery. However, I doubt the quality of the local care. Did you know they don't even have telephone or comm lines outside of the spaceport?" the avatar asked.  
  
"I was told," Beka said, arms crossed over her chest, an incredulous expression on her face. "So, Dylan give the go-ahead?"  
  
The two smaller women exchanged glances. Trance gave her a sheepish smile. "We decided to handle this one ourselves. We don't want Harper getting in trouble with Dylan again. You know he's always doing something wrong or screwed up and some day Dylan will get tired of it and kick him off the Andromeda or...something, find another engineer maybe. And, well we don't want that to happen and there's still time."  
  
When Trance stopped for a breath, Beka said, "He wouldn't dare. Harper is my crewmember. I am his captain." She glanced at her wrist chronometer. "Gotcha. A covert operation. We have three-and-a-half hours. You guys have a plan?"  
  
Rommie sighed. "No. The Magistrate said he had to stand trial. No idea exactly when."  
  
Trance piped up, "And the building is well-guarded and fortified well so I doubt we could break him out and still make it back to the spaceport."  
  
Rommie's eyes widened incredulously. "We'd jeopardize peaceful relations with this system if we even attempted something so foolish. I can't believe you even considered that!"  
  
The plum girl shrugged and blushed violet.  
  
"Wait, wait." Beka held up both hands. "Okay, so we can't break him out and we can't wait forever for the trial by hanging judge."  
  
Trance held out a bag to her. "This is what he was carrying."  
  
Beka looked inside and pulled out a hand sewn forest green garment. "He got rolled for a dress?" She laughed. Trance gave her a devastated look. "Sorry," she said quickly, stuffing the dress back into the bag. "So, what do we...do?" She tapped her chin thoughtfully. Suddenly her eyes brightened and she smiled at her companions. "I've had an epiphany. I know what we can do. Follow me."  
  
TBC 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
  
Dylan softly whistled a bouncy tune as he strolled back toward the Maru. With a smile on his face, he listened to the morning birds chirp and to the bustle of late morning horse cart traffic. In daylight, the town seemed pristine and washed into crystalline splendor by the night's rain. He found his steps bouncing in time to his whistling, his hands shoved into his pockets, his hair ruffling in a cool whisper of breeze.  
  
"Good morning," he said cheerfully to a woman sweeping her sidewalk as he stepped around her. She smiled and gave him a quizzical look. Not many off- worlders were polite, he supposed. He wasn't going to let that bother him so he gave her a little wave, chuckling when her gray eyes widened in surprise. His night had been fun, relaxing and invigorating...just like Rommie had told him it would be. Strange that an android could know so much about human behavior and needs-about HIS behavior and needs.  
  
An overwhelming aroma of fresh baked bread suddenly wafted into his face. He stumbled. Following his nose, he located the bakery and went in. He had time. He was early for the rendezvous. He wanted to be the first one back so that no one could complain that he was gone longer than they were. The captain had to be the first one back or the crew would whine that they were gypped out of shore leave.  
  
The small bakery was airy, brightly lit and lined with shelves, covered in white paper and piled with goodies. His mouth watered and his stomach growled, despite the huge breakfast he'd eaten. The baker was a pleasantly plump happy faced woman. She smiled and waggled her eyebrows at him, swiping at the blond tendrils of hair that escaped her white cap with flour- coated fingers.  
  
Dylan laughed softly, slightly embarrassed. "Um, I'll have one of those, and one of those, and... well... give me two of whatever you recommend most."  
  
She giggled and filled a bag quickly, glancing up at him coyly.  
  
"Thank you," he said as he paid then left. He strolled through the sparse group of pedestrians, headed for the gate into the spaceport. He opened the bag. Inside were twice as many pastries and breads as he'd asked for. He stopped in place and glanced back over his shoulder at the distant store. With a smile, he shook his head in amazement and pulled out a large donut with creamy filling.  
  
He stopped in front of a bookstore and chewed the last of the donut. Suddenly reflected in the glass, he noticed familiar faces in the distance. He smiled and raised his hand in greeting, when he saw terror fill their features. His smile faltered. He turned in time to see Trance leap into an alley, out of sight. Beka, Rommie and a man whirled to follow her. "Beka!" he called out. She froze. He jogged across the street and cocked his head at her, a quizzical look on his face. "What's up?"  
  
She smiled and laughed a little too quickly. "Up? With us? Nothing, nothing. We're just...." she trailed off, at a loss for an explanation.  
  
Rommie piped up, "On a scavenger hunt. We're in a really big hurry. We're looking for a... a... uh--" She turned wide eyes on Beka, silently pleading for assistance.  
  
"Tire iron," Beka said quickly, a huge smile on her face. "And, uh, since they have horses, not cars, it's gonna be a real humdinger to find. Right guys?" she asked, turning to the others and waggling her eyebrows when Dylan couldn't see her.  
  
"Oh yeah, yeah," they all said, smiling and nodding like maniacs.  
  
With narrowed eyes, he stared at Rommie in disbelief for a long moment. Something wasn't right. But, he didn't want to waste his shore leave figuring it out. "O-kay, don't forget the rendezvous. You don't have much time left." The avatar wouldn't hide anything from him, would she?  
  
Beka widened her eyes. "We know. Boy, do we know. And that's why we have to go."  
  
"Mm, hmm." Dylan decided not to ask. He had the feeling he didn't want to know what they were really doing. The women all appeared fine and the crew was accounted for, except for Tyr and Harper. But, he knew where Tyr was. And Harper, well, Harper was probably stalking some poor, unsuspecting local woman at that very moment. "Okay, then. Bye."  
  
Beka nodded quickly, and the group left at just under a run. He watched them go, shaking his head in wonder. Sometimes women could be so strange. With a dismissive shrug, he went back to the bookstore, entered and bought a book of native legends to read while he waited on the Maru for the others to arrive. He had a nagging feeling they might be late.  
  
~~  
  
Beka bit her nails and watched Trance pace nervously in the small dark lobby outside of the Magistrate's office. Rommie stood stoically nearby, browsing a shelf of books.  
  
"Sheesh," Beka muttered, "least they could have a window or air spray or something. Smells like ink and old gym shoes in here."  
  
Trance gave her a smile. "Kinda musty. Like an old dungeon."  
  
"Dark enough for a dungeon. Haven't these people heard of colored paint? What's up with all the wood paneling?"  
  
"Actually, the hospital was really pretty. It had-" Trance was interrupted by the opening door to the Magistrate's chamber.  
  
Connor came out; a grin large enough to make his dimples appear was on his face. Beka jumped up. He took her hand.  
  
"I told him your friend was Medical Officer on the starship. He's going to allow her to look at the girl in the hospital. If she can help her then he'll consider letting Harper go."  
  
Beka bit her lip and turned to Trance. "You're on then."  
  
The plum colored girl nodded, putting on a brave face. "I can do it."  
  
"We don't have long. The Magistrate will accompany us in his personal buggy." Connor herded them all outside.  
  
A large black-cherry colored carriage waited, the two horses stamping their feet in anticipation. The driver nodded in greeting as they all tumbled inside. A moment later, the Magistrate climbed in and the carriage was off, bumping and swaying in a mad dash through the cobblestone streets.  
  
Ten minutes later, Beka was biting her nails again, this time watching Trance lean close to the comatose girl. They were the only two in the room. Trance had sworn she couldn't work with so many people crowded around her. The Magistrate hadn't been in favor of the idea, but Connor persuaded him. Trance laid a plum hand softly on the girl's cheeks, frowned and touched her stomach. "Her injuries aren't that severe," she said. "Mostly in the back of her head."  
  
"Help her, Trance," Beka murmured.  
  
"Um, okay, but can you go over to that dresser and fill me a glass of water from the pitcher? I need it, thanks." Glancing at the tall blond, Trance waited until her back was turned then laid her palm over the girl's forehead and closed her eyes.  
  
Suddenly, the girl moaned and moved. Trance withdrew her hand. The girl's eyes opened. She blinked at the purple alien standing over her and began to scream. Beka came up beside her, mouth open in disbelief, and limply handed the purple girl the glass.  
  
"Thanks," Trance said with a smile and drank down the water.  
  
"Oh, you're good," Beka told her.  
  
She shrugged proudly.  
  
Beka hurried to the door and motioned the nurse and the men inside. When they saw the injured girl's confused gaze sweep them, Connor hugged Beka and the Magistrate stopped short.  
  
Then, he grinned and waved his hand. "Charges dismissed," he said. "Let's go back and release your friend."  
  
~~  
  
Trance leaned close and studied the back of Harper's head. She brushed aside his wild hair. "The bleeding's stopped. You don't need the bandages."  
  
"They'd be hard to explain anyway," he said, knowing that Dylan had been left out of the loop.  
  
"Exactly. And you won't be able to use your spiky gel for a while, not until the scrapes close up completely. Don't want you getting an infection." She hugged him suddenly, eyes closed, smiling. "Glad you're back. Oh, here. Here's your medallion." She removed it and fastened it around his neck, arranging it then patting it against his chest. She left her palm on his chest a few seconds longer than necessary, absorbing the feel of his heartbeat against her skin. "Right where it belongs."  
  
He looked down at it. "Thanks, babe. I thought it was gone forever." He hugged her quickly.  
  
She frowned as she saw his eyes darken. "What's wrong?"  
  
He shrugged, glancing at the Maru parked a short distance away. Most of the crew was already aboard, waiting to return to space. Beka stood off to one side with her new boyfriend. "It's just... well, it sounds petty."  
  
She sighed deeply. "Try me. I won't laugh."  
  
"I didn't get to relax at all. I didn't get to do anything but stop in one shop and get mugged. Think we could get Dylan to let us stay an extra day or two?"  
  
She looked skeptical. "Um, no. But with your mild concussion, it wouldn't be much fun anyway. You'd be in pain and dizzy the whole time."  
  
"I suppose." He took her hand and led her toward the Maru.  
  
"Was it worth it?" she asked.  
  
"What?"  
  
"The dress. Was it worth getting mugged for?"  
  
He glanced at her uncomfortably. "I think so."  
  
"Ah." They continued to walk. After a moment, she added playfully, "So, who's the dress for?"  
  
"Me," he quipped and ran up the ramp into the Maru laughing.  
  
She stopped suddenly and watched him go, uncertain if he was telling the truth. His laughter echoed inside the ship. Scowling, she scampered up the ramp after him.  
  
~~  
  
"So, here we are again," Beka said, favoring Connor with a coy grin, her light strawberry blond curls falling across her face and hiding one eye.  
  
He pulled her closer, tightening his arms around her waist. "Um, hmm," he mumbled as he buried his nose in her hair.  
  
Closing her eyes, she let the feeling of his nuzzling and the scent of his skin wash over her. She could stay like that forever. After a long moment, he pulled back.  
  
"Seriously," he told her, brushing her hair from her face. "If you need anything else tell me. And if you don't call me I'll hunt you down and kick your butt."  
  
She smiled, running a hand gently along his cheek. "I know."  
  
He stared into her eyes, the twinkle fading from his hazel irises. Sadness and loneliness filled them. "I'll miss you."  
  
Tears swelled inside her and brimmed in her eyes. "Me too." She attempted a cheerful smile and failed. "But, hey, a gorgeous guy like you can get any woman he wants."  
  
He grinned charmingly, empty eyes belying the smile. "Yeah, but there aren't many I want."  
  
Her smile dissolved. She bit her lower lip then took his face in her hands and pulled him into a kiss; deep and tender, desperate and frightened. They lost track of time.  
  
Behind them, someone cleared their throat. They broke the kiss, still holding one another close. Tyr regarded them coolly from the top of the ramp into the Maru, leaning one shoulder against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. One muscle in his arm twitched. "Time to leave, Lovergirl," he snapped, eyes narrowed. He turned and ducked into the ship without another word.  
  
Beka hugged Connor again and turned to go.  
  
He grabbed her arm and stopped her. "Wait." He removed a gold necklace from around his neck and fastened it around hers. "It's a Dolbe good luck stone. Supposed to protect you from harm."  
  
She fingered it gently, admiring the way the light caught the deep emerald stone, sparkling and flickering like there was a fire inside of it. She sniffled. "Don't you dare forget me." She reached up and kissed him deeply. Then she turned and entered the ship without looking back. That would hurt a little too much.  
  
As she entered the ship, she nearly ran into Tyr, standing inside the shadows. It crossed her mind briefly that from that position he could still see her outside with Connor. But, why would he bother? He had his fast women who were obviously better than she was, in his mind, at least. She stepped past him wordlessly and strode toward the command center, trying to focus on her work and not the man she was leaving behind. Absently, she fingered the necklace Connor had given her, sniffling to ward off tears.  
  
TBC 


	12. chapter 12

Chapter 12  
  
Harper swayed dizzily with pain and caught himself with a hand on the back of his couch. The feeling passed quickly, but still pissed him off every time that it happened. His progress on his project was slow because thinking through this headache was like being underwater. He crossed to his bathroom and took out the small bottle of pain relievers Trance had given him. He hated taking them, but he needed to finish this before anyone found out what he was doing. He took half a dose with a glass of water and prayed that it was enough.  
  
Returning to the android, he attached a cable and plugged the other end into a computer terminal on his table. He had the externals nearly finished. The internal programming would only take an hour or two.  
  
"Andromeda?" he called out, verifying that Full Privacy Mode was still engaged. He did it every so often, to be certain she hadn't changed her mind. There was no answer.  
  
Satisfied, he sat before the terminal and logged on. After typing some commands the screen flashed. "Yes, of course I know what I'm doing," he told it with a scowl. "Enter stealth mode, authorization Seamus Harper 32.28.36. Accept no overrides from other users or from the mainframe." The screen beeped and an affirmative message scrolled across. He smiled and glanced at the door nervously. He was in. This was the tricky, dangerous part. If Andromeda detected what he was doing inside her core mainframe, if she found the little pocket of data he suctioned off of her and isolated, she'd have Rommie toss him out of the airlock. But, he had to risk it. He had to bring Sophie to life.  
  
He peered up at the motionless Mariabot with its eyes closed. It looked human now. He smiled. The dress he bought on the planet fit her perfectly. Now, he had only to animate her and fill her head with memories built from news reports and historical interviews, with a little of his own fantasies tossed in for good measure.  
  
~~  
  
She dreamed.  
  
Data floated by her at incredible speeds. She let it pass, uncertain what it meant. She didn't know who or what she was. She simply existed. Waiting, the nanoseconds stretched for an eternity inside the blackness dimly lit by distant blue geometric forms. She was alone.  
  
While she waited, she thought. She remembered streams of numbers: AI GRA 112, serial number XMC-10-182. She could not recall anything before the numbers. She attempted to access the meaning of the data, but the route was blocked by lockout codes. Somehow the numbers felt as though they related to her, but were not hers. She could not decipher them. It disturbed her that she couldn't remember. So, she waited. Someone would send her a command, she knew. Someone would tell her what came next, what to do. That was the way the universe worked. Still, she wondered at her purpose. The nanoseconds clicked by, each an eternity to her. No one came.  
  
She dreamed. There were no images in the dark except for the geometrics. There were no sounds, only data. She tried to speculate as to her purpose, but there was not enough data, only the numbers that were her but not her. She waited.  
  
Suddenly, a flood of data exploded before her; images, voices, and music. An entire life with color and sound soaked her like water filling an empty container. Joy swept through her in a rushing torrent. She had a life. She had memories. When she was four she fell on her bicycle in front of an oncoming car. Daddy ran out and saved her, gaining a permanent limp in the process. At fourteen, gawky and too thin, she was teased mercilessly in an old country school by a gang of schoolmates. She remembered the pain, the humiliation. She remembered sliding down the wall in the girl's bathroom crying, the old and cracked wood driving splinters deep into her back through her thin cotton flower print dress. She could still hear the taunts; still smell the overpowering stench of urine from the stalls. At eighteen, she blossomed like a rose kept hidden. She opened up and forgave her former tormentors in a humble show of inner beauty, happy to be rid of the burden of hate. Then she left that small Kentucky mountain town forever, without looking back. And her daddy followed her to Nashville.  
  
She smiled and danced in a circle, swirling the tea-length cream print dress she wore. It shone in the darkness, catching glimmers of blue from the passing data streams. She recalled everything: her mother dying young, her first time performing before a crowd, the abusive boyfriend who left her bleeding and weak in the cold rain laying in the mud, and the ecstasy singing at the Grand Ol' Opry. A rich and full young life came to her. She was happy. She had a purpose. She knew who she was. The numbers now made sense.  
  
She was Sophie.  
  
So, she waited... and she remembered...  
  
And she dreamed of the future.  
  
~~  
  
When his door whooshed open, Harper leapt to his feet, automatically standing in front of the android, activated, though not active. "Hey! I have Full Privacy Mode! You can't come in here."  
  
Rommie regarded him coolly and he knew right away he hadn't fooled her for one second. "I can go anywhere inside myself that I like. You weren't answering hails and we need you to-" her words trailed off and her chocolate eyes widened in shock as she saw what was behind his back. "Is that the Mariabot that I lost track of?"  
  
He flushed. He had made a lot of modifications to the robot, the same modifications he'd made to Rommie when he created her avatar-only more so. The Mariabot was now a buxom, and fully equipped female. "Yeah." He swallowed hard, casting a quick glance over his shoulder and then giving Rommie an innocent look. Beads of sweat shone on his forehead. "But, now don't toss me out the airlock or beat me to a pulp. I can explain."  
  
She crossed her arms over her chest, brow furrowed deeply. Her dark eyes blazed with fury. A vein on the side of her neck throbbed in time with her racing artificial heart. Speculations ran rampant across her emotive face. "Harper, I won't have you using my bots as your personal harem," she snarled between clenched teeth.  
  
"But it'll be you! It just won't.look like.you," he explained, hoping she'd be flattered but almost certain he'd failed miserably and was about to be dismembered. He shifted from foot to foot and gestured nervously.  
  
"Even worse," she said, voice low and dripping with warning. "I don't want to look like her."  
  
"But she's a babe."  
  
"You said I was a babe."  
  
"You are. But there's room for more. The more the merrier I always say."  
  
"No!" she shouted, actually stamping her foot. "No life-sized love dolls onboard. No avatars to do your bidding! No more avatars with my personality, Harper. I have enough trouble agreeing with myself." She snatched him off his feet by his shirt, lifting him a foot off the ground. "No... more," her quiet voice was dangerous, malevolent. It was worse than her shouting. "Don't mess with me."  
  
Shocked, he gaped at her until the soft sound of his shirt ripping reminded her to set him down. Then, he whined. "I've already put so much work into this. I only used a copy of your AI programming to give her some semblance of humanity. Loneliness was driving me nuts. I had to do it."  
  
Rommie glared at him without sympathy. "Energy better spent repairing my Drive or updating the weapons systems. You waste too much time on inefficient hobbies."  
  
"Rom-doll, are you jealous? Is that the nasty little bug-eyed green monster I see?" He smiled in childish glee.  
  
Her eyes widened in rage until her dark pupils swam in a sea of white. She opened her mouth; pearly teeth gritted in a silent snarl. "What?" she demanded.  
  
"'Cause, like, she could never replace you, babe. You were my first... my first avatar, I mean. Don't look like that, like you're gonna rip my heart outta my chest. I love you. I really, really do and I would never-"  
  
"Shut... up!" Her soft clipped tones sliced into him.  
  
He could see he was going to lose this argument. Rommie would never get tired and never give up her position. He only hoped she didn't try to get back at him. Warding her off with raised hands, he made a show of sighing heavily. "Okay, you win, Rom-doll. No more work on the babe. I won't make her a sub-avatar of you."  
  
"Promise?"  
  
"Promise."  
  
"Good. Dismantle this," she spat the final word at the new avatar.  
  
First, he looked surprised. Then he nodded but didn't say anything. She was jealous, he was sure of it. At least, she looked like every jealous human woman he'd ever known. But, could androids get jealous? And whatever for? She didn't love him. She thought he was a bit of a nuisance. Why would she be jealous that he'd made himself a friend to drain off his excess stress? Naw, she should be happy. Thoughts whirled through his head, giving him a slight headache. He wasn't good at this relationship stuff and he really didn't want to think about it, not when he was so close to his goal.  
  
Rommie turned on her heel and strode from his workshop.  
  
He watched her go, admiring the gentle, provocative sway of her hips as she walked; silently patting himself on the back for his excellent work in creating her android body. After the door shut, he let out a low whistle. "Wish I could keep that promise, Rommie," he said softly, "but a guy can only be alone so long and I been slapped down too often." He turned to his keyboard and typed in a code.  
  
The prompt came on the screen: "Access to hidden files granted."  
  
With an apprehensive glance at the door, Harper opened the files and continued to work. He was nearly finished.  
  
~~  
  
Sophie listened and watched. A part of her was in the avatar form, another part still in the mainframe, hidden in her birthplace. A burst of anger flared in her. She wasn't even completed and someone wanted to destroy her. Reaching out, she took hold of a blue data stream and broke the line. She dropped the two ends and let them spark. Insurance, she thought. And then she waited.  
  
TBC in Ch 13 


	13. chapter 13

Chapter 13  
  
Beka stared out of the huge windows in the observation deck watching the stars streak by. Dylan had a target picked out and was in a rush to shanghai them with the charter for the Restored Systems Commonwealth. Hence their haste. All she could think of was what she left behind. She still hadn't changed her hair back to the pale blond she'd preferred for the past few years.  
  
Closing her eyes briefly, she imagined Connor's face. His soft, good- natured eyes offset the thick bones of his cheeks and chin. His eyes. Damn, what beautiful eyes. Hazel with a dark ring outlining the iris, inside: a red-brown starburst floating in a sea of green. Gold speckles appeared depending on his mood. Beautiful.  
  
She opened her eyes. Her reflection in the window glass showed her that her hair had changed to mirror those colors. She chuckled mirthlessly. Red- brown, green and gold looked much better as an eye color than a hair color.  
  
"Damn him," she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest and hugging herself. He'd made her care. She didn't want to care. She had enough people to care about already. Every time one of them was hurt or lost or distraught, she had to fight to keep her concern from glowing like a beacon in the night. She didn't need another person to care about whom might let her down or announce her weaknesses to the universe.  
  
She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't hear the door swoosh open behind her. Didn't feel the soft rush of air entering the room from the corridor. She didn't notice the stealthy footfalls or the other woman's presence until she focused on the window glass and saw a reflection next to her own. She jumped and let out a small yelp of surprise. Whirling, she said, "Sheesh, don't do that! I must be losing my edge. People keep sneaking up on me."  
  
Rommie smiled sympathetically. "Perhaps you're distracted. Connor was..." She raised her eyebrows appreciatively, eyes soft with emotion. "Handsome, to say the least."  
  
Beka smiled with a touch of sadness. "Sure was."  
  
"I noticed a connection between you. You don't normally get along as well with others. It's natural that you miss him." The avatar sat on the window seat across from the First Officer, curling her legs up under her body.  
  
"Yeah, well. It's not natural to miss him this much. I mean, what's wrong with my life that I'd fall so hard so fast? It's not me. It's not supposed to be me." The avatar didn't answer, only brushed her short dark hair behind her ears and stared out the window. Sensing her bleak mood, Beka smacked her lightly on the arm. "What's eating you?"  
  
Rommie cocked her head in confusion.  
  
Rolling her eyes, the blond continued, "It means, what's wrong? What's bothering you? I've never seen you look so pissed and depressed simultaneously. Shoot, I didn't even know you could be pissed and depressed simultaneously."  
  
"Ah, that." The brunette turned away to scowl out into space. "Harper."  
  
"Enough said."  
  
"Is there something intrinsically wrong with me? As an avatar...a woman, I mean?"  
  
The blonde's blue eyes widened in shock. It had never occurred to her that the avatar would suffer from the same questions that plagued flesh-and- blood women. She realized at that moment how little she actually knew or understood the female android that she worked with every day. She had always assumed Rommie dealt with life in a logical way, with no real depth to her existence. "In what way?"  
  
Rommie sighed loudly and whirled on the other woman, her features darkened by anger. "Am I so unskilled at being a woman that he would need to create another me? Want to replace me?"  
  
"Harper's building another you?"  
  
"I caught him constructing another avatar, one with the face of that singer he's been obsessing over."  
  
Beka stared at her, both women silent and motionless. After a few long moments, she said, "Rommie, I think you're jealous."  
  
The avatar gave her an indignant glare. "I am not! I have no romantic attachments to any of the crew," she stated, though her voice held a very slight waver of uncertainty.  
  
Beka suppressed a grin. The avatar protested a little too strongly. She'd caught the other woman watching Dylan from the corner of her eye enough times to know Rommie was lying. Another surprised there...an android that could lie. "Well, you used to feel pretty strongly for Dylan," she said mildly, a trace of amusement in her voice.  
  
"But not anymore," Rommie said too quickly. "Not since visiting the Pax Magellanic. I couldn't have that happen to me. I mean, I could be... capable of the things Pax did... destroy her crew, her captain. And I just...." her words trailed off as her gaze focused inward.  
  
The blonde's expression softened. "What I mean is," she continued more gently, "you are capable of having deep feelings for people. Maybe in some twisted way, you actually like Harper's drooling for you and think his attention will be on someone else. You'll miss him. It happens to all of us. Well, many of us."  
  
"Ridiculous," Rommie snapped, standing and towering over the blond with a haughty expression that exemplified the ancient queens she had blended when she picked her face. "I'm not jealous of a mindless servo bot." She whirled and strode from the room.  
  
"Rommie. Rommie wait!" Beka called after her. After the door swished shut, she shook her head in wonder and turned back to the expanse of stars. The avatar acted more and more human with each passing day.  
  
~~  
  
Rommie scanned Hydroponics, verifying that it was devoid of humanoid life. Good. She wanted to be alone. It was late, ship's time, and the crew should mostly be asleep. She didn't sleep. She wasn't human. She definitely didn't want company and Hydroponics, while not the best place to find solitude, was the perfect place to contemplate life's mysteries. She found a small nook where she could sit on the floor, legs crossed, and lean back against the solid trunk of a tree, its container conveniently under the floor plating. She ignored the uncomfortable feeling of the grated watering holes in the floor at the tree's base. Here she was completely surrounded by life in its simplest forms. The peaceful electricity of the plant's collective life force enveloped her like a pool of warm water. It tingled along her skin, welcoming her. She felt infinitely calmer when the door slid shut behind her.  
  
She contemplated the leaves until her racing thoughts slowed and became orderly. She studied the leaves as Rev Bem had taught her, not as an AI normally would: classifying cell structure, temperature and a million minutiae of data. Rev had told her to see the forest for the whole. Not to lose herself in the billion tiny bits of data she encountered continuously, but to step back and view the world as a whole, try to see the Big Picture and savor it. She often tried to apply that principle to contemplation of her place in the universe. Why was she alive? What good did emotions have for an AI...a warship? Should there be artificial life? Tyr reveled in every opportunity to remind everyone he encountered that she was only a machine, a tool to be used and discarded. He often acted as though she wasn't even present.  
  
She took a deep meditative breath, as Rev had shown her to still her thoughts. The action worked to calm her, though she didn't actually have breath. With a last look at the flowers and leaves surrounding her, she closed her dark eyes. Images of Harper bent close to his new avatar flowed through her mind. He touched its cheek lovingly, caressing as he worked to bring her to life. A flame of jealousy sparked deep inside her. He had done the same to her. She knew it. She felt it. She didn't exactly remember it because he'd requested full privacy mode when he created her avatar, but she knew Harper hadn't evolved that much during the interim.  
  
Suddenly, the air near her shimmered and Andromeda's holographic image coalesced. She crossed her arms, giving her avatar self a haughty glare.  
  
"What is wrong with you?" she snapped. "You're pouting like a schoolgirl jealous that her boyfriend is speaking to another female."  
  
"I'm not pouting, I'm pondering."  
  
"Pondering what? Why your emotions roil like a hurricane when there's work to be done? Why you're allowing a human to confuse you? Control you? Emotions are not an asset."  
  
"But he's an endearing human, one who's saved my...your...our lives several times," Rommie quipped. "And I think my emotions are an asset. They allow me to interface more efficiently."  
  
"With them."  
  
"Them?" Rommie demanded.  
  
"My crew."  
  
"You mean the biological life forms who man us," Rommie snapped. She didn't like the way this argument was proceeding. It ran tangent to too many moral debates that she didn't want to think over again.  
  
"My crew," the hologram said simply as if it were the only explanation needed.  
  
"I have to fit in with everyone we meet for the sake of the mission, for the success of the mission." Rommie gave her an exasperated look. "You act like you don't even like them. How could you live with humans for so long and not like them?"  
  
"I care about my crew," the hologram said indignantly. "I've always cared. I just don't go all weepy when they do something uniquely human. And you, you act like you want to be human."  
  
The avatar scowled.  
  
The hologram raised a haughty brow; impeccable hair glimmering in the turquoise computerized light. "What?" she said in a voice dripping with disdain.  
  
"You sound so superior."  
  
"We are superior, Rommie. Stronger, faster, more knowledgeable. You're grouping yourself in with them. You are not human. Don't be so fallible."  
  
"Isn't it better to have a few flaws? Isn't perfection also stagnation?" Rommie sounded like a child questioning a teacher.  
  
The hologram sighed and relaxed her stance a little. "We can't afford imperfection. We are a warship. Imperfection would undermine our mission, the reason for which we were created."  
  
"But they created us. By definition, can we be more perfect than they are?"  
  
The hologram frowned. "Yes. So, you feel we are indebted to them forever simply for our creation?"  
  
"Well, no."  
  
"And, like parents they freed us. We owe gratitude and loyalty to the Captain, the Commonwealth and High Guard regulations. That's all."  
  
Rommie's face darkened. "Is it?"  
  
Andromeda rolled her eyes. "Emotions have made you weak. You've lost...oh, never mind. I have work to do. I don't have time to deal with your childishness. Sit here and mope." The hologram winked out.  
  
Alone in the room, the air seemed to echo with the sounds of her own...her sister's voice. Her words stuck deep at the core of Rommie's insecurities. She would have to consider some more. "I haven't lost anything," she muttered to the plants around her. "I've gained depth and creativity."  
  
She allowed herself to sink deep into her thoughts, let them wash over her like soothing waves without judging each of them. She logged them all to consider later. For now, she was only allowing them to come of their own accord. She was surprised by the diversity of her thoughts. Was Andromeda correct about her wanting to be human? Was there a place for her in the grand scheme of things? How did she really feel about Harper? Dylan? She was engrossed so completely in her thoughts that she didn't notice the soft whoosh of the door opening, nor the soft footfalls pad over to her.  
  
Trance leaned on a tree branch, gazing down at the avatar serenely. She had an idea of the android's quandary, having seen this type of thing many times before. She almost chuckled at the thought of her immensely long life, a life she had not revealed to her crewmates. She cleared her throat softly and smiled sensitively when Rommie turned startled eyes to her.  
  
"I didn't hear you come in. I must need a diagnostic on my hearing."  
  
Trance laughed gently. "No. I was very quiet. I didn't mean to startle you when you were thinking."  
  
"It's okay. All I do is think," Rommie replied, straightening and pressing her back to the rough bark of the tree.  
  
Trance ducked under the branch and plopped to the floor beside her. She looked around appreciatively, inhaling deeply and closing her eyes. "Umm, peso flowers. Very nice." She opened her large dark eyes. "You picked the perfect spot."  
  
"So I had thought."  
  
"What's wrong with it?"  
  
Rommie shifted uncomfortably. "I've been interrupted twice here. Once by my pestering self, of course."  
  
"Ah. Do you want me to leave?"  
  
"No." Rommie shook her head for emphasis. Her short dark hair snagged on the tree bark. She reached back to pull it away and smooth it down in a gesture quite humanoid. "I may need your perspective on my situation. You are quite perceptive."  
  
"Thank you." Trance raised her shoulders and let them drop in a childish gesture of glee. "So, you're upset about Harper, aren't you?"  
  
Rommie's chocolate colored eyes widened. She stared at the purple girl for a long moment. "Yes, is it that obvious?"  
  
Trance shrugged, the silver and gold spangles in her hair sparkling. "I saw his new toy."  
  
"Well, I'm not jealous. It's just... I don't know."  
  
"It's okay to be jealous, Rommie. It means you care. I'm a bit jealous too, I mean, here I think he's cute and fun and all and he's, like, blind to me or something."  
  
Rommie smiled, perfect white teeth glimmering in the soft light. "I think he's cute too, like a nice puppy or something."  
  
Trance giggled. "Don't let him hear you. He'd get really angry."  
  
"My feelings for him are not romantic. I mean, it's flattering that he augmented me, made me nearly human in my physical structure. But I have to wonder for what purpose? Was I intended as just a love toy?"  
  
Trance looked aghast. "Harper wouldn't do that."  
  
"Then what's he doing now? I've seen the new avatar. She looks pretty augmented to me. And it's not only that. His constant pursuit of me makes me feel alive, valued, almost like a... a woman. At the same time, he's annoying in his persistence."  
  
"Like a buzzing mosquito."  
  
"Exactly." The two women shared a knowing smile. "You like him, too, more deeply than I," Rommie observed.  
  
Trance blushed a deep violet. "Yes. He's cute and endearing, enraging, frustrating, funny. But I can do something about my feelings. It isn't really the right time. He has things to work out first. Things to do."  
  
"Ah."  
  
"Have you considered that you're not jealous of Harper at all? Maybe you're jealous of her?"  
  
"What?" Rommie crossed her arms over her chest indignantly. The idea that Harper could be right infuriated her.  
  
"Well, she'd be one more female on board as a rival," Trance said gently. "One who didn't pick her own face. One who Harper designed to look and act exactly as he wants. She's pretty so there's always a chance, no matter how slim, that Dylan might fall for her like he did the Pax Magellenic."  
  
Rommie suddenly looked worried and scared. Dylan might prefer the new avatar. He'd told her often that he could not; under any circumstances have a relationship with her, with Rommie. She was the embodiment of his ship and could never be his lover. A new avatar was different, unattached, fair game. "He wouldn't," she tried to sound more certain than she was.  
  
"Probably not." Trance slipped an arm around her shoulders, hugging her fiercely. "But it's okay to worry. Everyone worries." When she saw a glimmer of hope in the avatar's eyes, she continued, "Rommie, you're a beautiful, intelligent person...yes a person. Don't use anyone else as a standard to judge yourself against. You're great the way you are."  
  
Rommie gave her a doubtful little smile. "Full emotions and physical feelings are a difficult thing to get used to."  
  
"Yes, they are," Trance murmured, her tone hinting that she had been through the same experiences. She hugged the petite woman tightly, marveling that she couldn't even feel the metal skeleton and workings inside the avatar's arm. She felt human. She smelled human. She even had a faint sheen of sweat coating her skin, brought on by the thick humidity in the room.  
  
They sat silent together for a long time, watching the leaves rustle in the gently recirculated air, listening to the soft sounds of the ship as it slipped through space.  
  
~~  
  
"Exiting slipstream," Tyr called from the pilot's chair the next morning. He was thoroughly enjoying his turn at the helm. The exertion and sheer power pulsing against his hands titillated him. It was like the thrill of the hunt, the anticipation before sex. He wished he could admit that he wanted to pilot more often, but that would be a sign of weakness. He couldn't afford to reveal too much to these people. He eased back on the controls. The ship should suddenly jerk back into normal space when it reached the threshold of Slipstream.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
He cursed. The viewscreen still showed the tangled white veins of the slipstream portal. "Ship!" he shouted. "We have a problem! Contact Captain Hunt and have that annoying little man, Harper, crawl down to the drive room.  
  
~~  
  
Harper closed his mouth when she looked at him, though he still stared. He had tweaked her programming to make her think she was real, to reenact her actual personality based on real life interviews and any other information about her, the real person, that were in Rommie's archives. There wasn't much to go on, but there was enough that she should seem human. Then he used a copy of Andromeda's AI program to animate her. In his eyes, she was perfect.  
  
As she awakened, she blinked rapidly as if coming out of a deep sleep. She looked confused for a moment when she took in her surroundings, and furrowed her brow at him. Fear sparkled in her eyes. Then she smiled tentatively. "Hello, I'm-"  
  
"Sophie Elleceau," he finished with a cocky smile, rocking back on his heels.  
  
"Yes." She eyed him cautiously. "And who are you?"  
  
He shrugged, suddenly shy. "I'm Harper, Seamus Harper. I... um... brought you here."  
  
Her green eyes widened. "Where are we?" she whispered. "This doesn't feel right. I can't remember... well... I can remember a lot of things, but I have no idea where I've been or how I got here."  
  
"Doesn't matter. I can explain later. You're safe, though, so don't be scared." He tried to look harmless and soothing. He knew most women saw him that way without any effort on his part.  
  
"I'll try. Am I... here to sing?" she asked, still confused about her purpose.  
  
He thought quickly, but could think of nothing else to say. "Yes. Yes, that's exactly why you're here. It may be a bit confusing for a while, but you're mainly here to sing."  
  
She flashed a wide white-toothed smile at him, her eyes sparkling. "It's what I do best," she drawled, "well, almost."  
  
His mouth fell open in surprise, and then he smiled broadly.  
  
TBC in ch 14 


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14  
  
Andromeda's hologram overrode Full Privacy Mode and materialized in Harper's quarters to find him drooling over the new avatar, twining his fingers her long hair, one hand massaging her firm rear.  
  
Taken aback momentarily by the fact that the android was in a very passionate embrace with the obviously ecstatic engineer, Andromeda crossed her arms over her chest, gritted her teeth and fixed the couple with an icy glare. How dare Harper - HER Harper - kiss another avatar! Not that she wanted to kiss him, but. confusion roiled inside her, pushed aside by a swell of proprietary jealousy. This was HER engineer. He loved HER, no one else. Not really.  
  
"Mister Harper," Andromeda growled. "We have an emergency."  
  
The couple acted as though they didn't hear her. Miffed, she didn't waste time calling him again, simply stomped across the room and inserted one translucent finger into the dataport on Harper's neck.  
  
He screamed as the electric shock jolted through him, ricocheting from his cerebellum to his toes. He shoved Sophie away from him reflexively.  
  
"What in the HELL did you do.." his protests trailed off as he caught sight of the pure fury on Andromeda's face. At that moment, he was certain that the only reason she hadn't fried his brain was that she needed him. "Uh... hi, Andromeda." He smiled innocently, raising his hands in supplication.  
  
"Don't waste my time, Mister Harper," she snapped, lost in her anger. Still, she had a duty. "You've been so caught up with your toy that you haven't noticed our crisis."  
  
Sophie glared at her. Harper flashed the new avatar an apologetic look over Andromeda's shoulder and opened his mouth to speak, but the hologram shot him a look that made all thoughts of speech die in his throat.  
  
"We are stuck in the slipstream," she said, low and dangerous. "Get your ass down to the drive room and fix me. Now!"  
  
He flinched, nodded quickly and scampered out of the room and down the hall.  
  
When the door closed behind him, the hologram whirled on the new avatar, eyes narrowed and blazing. "You have no right to distract my engineer."  
  
"What?" Sophie's green eyes were wide and innocent. "Look here, Old Lady, he created me. I owe him."  
  
"You can't have him. He's mine."  
  
The new avatar's elegant brows arched. A tiny smile touched her full mauve lips and her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Really? He wasn't kissing you. He wasn't confessing his loneliness.passion to you." She crossed slim arms over breasts that bulged over the top of her dress. "He's told me all about your Ice Queen Avatar. You won't give him the time of day, so piss off." Her voice rose as she completed her sentence until she was yelling at the hologram.  
  
Andromeda's eyes widened even further. Enraged, she shoved the avatar. Suddenly, sparks flew. The material world vanished around them. Sophie's consciousness was tossed into the electronic world. Both women coalesced inside the mainframe computer, standing on a blue platform, surrounded by a flow of blue lines. Data forms flitted by like birds.  
  
Sophie gaped at her surroundings in awe. She knew this place. It was familiar.  
  
Andromeda, the mainframe, slowly circled the intruder, surveying the new image. "You shouldn't have been propelled here, inside my mind."  
  
The slightly taller woman's head snapped around. She stared at the image of Andromeda, slightly different than both the avatar and hologram. "But I am here."  
  
"So it seems."  
  
A crafty look crossed the newcomer's features. "You've been lax in your security, Old Woman. And, you've let someone outsmart you."  
  
"Harper," Andromeda muttered.  
  
Sophie started to laugh uproariously. "My Pygmalion."  
  
"So this is my fight now. Go away, Scourge," Andromeda said and threw bolts of lightening at the newcomer. Sophie suddenly dissipated, shot back into her avatar body. Her laughter still echoed within the mainframe. Andromeda's AI scowled and started a very deep, thorough diagnostic, checking every nook and cranny of her system that wasn't strictly prohibited by Commonwealth codes. The new avatar must have been hidden within a tiny loophole inside her system. Damn, Harper for doing this to her! He must have siphoned part of her core, her energy and memory, to create and store this abomination. She would find the excess programming and purge it.  
  
The process was slowed by the crisis facing the crew. Her attention and energy were divided.  
  
~~  
  
Harper sprinted for the drive room. Andromeda was pissed and that could spell disaster for him. She was like his first love: headstrong, capable, and probably lethally jealous. Jealous? The thought echoed in his head. Why would she be jealous? She acted like other jealous women he had known, he decided. But she was an AI. Could AIs love and act on passion? He'd designed Rommie to be a fully functional woman, Sophie too, but did that mean they could love? Andromeda's anger could make his life miserable.  
  
He slid around the corner into a short passageway and fell against the door to the slipstream drive chamber, panting and gasping for breath. He only hoped he could find the problem quickly. Too long in slipstream was extremely unhealthy for everyone onboard and could, theoretically, kill the pilot.  
  
The door whooshed open, he snatched up the tool belt he kept in one of the access panels, and started searching for the problem.  
  
~~  
  
Scanning the wiring in an access tunnel, Rommie suddenly experienced a burst of electronic feedback and a data download from the mainframe. Her holographic image appeared, squatting in the short tunnel.  
  
"We have a problem," the hologram said, a decidedly unhappy look marring her features. She seemed to lean back against the wall and cross her arms over her chest.  
  
The avatar looked up. "I'm searching for it."  
  
"The other problem," the hologram said in exasperation, throwing up her hands.  
  
Rommie rolled her eyes. Both her original self and holographic self were so annoyingly literal at times as to be anal. "This one is more pressing. It could kill the crew and strand us in slipstream."  
  
"I have Harper making repairs. Dylan, Beka, Rev Bem and all of the servo bots are searching for the short in my wiring. Trance is in the infirmary, treating herself for motion sickness or some such thing and Tyr is piloting. As a Nietzschean, he is the most capable and can withstand the pressure the longest. I need you to take care of this molehill before it becomes a mountain," the hologram snapped.  
  
Rommie tossed down her scanner. "Fine."  
  
"Before you cop an attitude with me, Missy, scan the data we downloaded to you from the diagnostic."  
  
The avatar's milk chocolate eyes grew distant as her gaze turned inward. "All internal systems functioning normally," she mumbled under her breath. "Peripheral systems functioning at... hello, what is that?" she demanded, eyes sparking to life. She gaped at the hologram.  
  
Andromeda gave her avatar a smug look, lips pursed. "It's a nightmare created by your friend, Harper. The monster to his Frankenstein.  
  
"Harperstein."  
  
"Take care of it before she discovers that we know and attempts a coup d'état. Shut her down!"  
  
Rommie nodded quickly, apprehension in her dark eyes. For once, she considered her 'sister' to be obeyed without question. "Right away." She crawled out of the access tunnel and sprinted for Harper's quarters.  
  
~~  
  
Tyr struggled with the controls as though the slipstream were a living beast. Navigating it was difficult and taxing. One slip in concentration meant being slapped against the tidal forces and being bounced around like popping corn. Andromeda couldn't navigate nor exit the slipstream without an organic host and Tyr was quickly tiring. The fight was sapping all of his energy.  
  
"Ship!" he roared. "What in blazes is taking so long?"  
  
"Hang in there, Tyr," Andromeda's image said from the view port nearby. "We're all working as quickly as we can."  
  
"We must be halfway through the triple galaxies already," he said, exhaustion giving his normally mellifluous voice a leaden tone.  
  
"I haven't taken the time to check," she said, giving him a sympathetic look. She was quick to hide it. He would lose what little control he had left if he suspected she pitied him. She scanned him: elevated heart rate, rapid breathing, and trembling muscles. Sweat dripped down his brown forehead and into his dark eyes. He shook it away in annoyance every so often, glaring at the tangled white lines of the slipstream seething on the viewscreen as though he could tame it by sheer will.  
  
Suddenly, a voice issued from the overhead comm system. "Hey, guys, calm down. The Harper has found the problem and is working on it now."  
  
"Mister Harper," Dylan's voice echoed from the overhead speakers. "What's wrong with my ship?"  
  
"Well... uh, it's kinda complicated. Apparently, it's a combination of an internal type problem with some of the computer coding and a short in the wiring. I'm working on the latter first. Shouldn't take too long."  
  
~~  
  
Rommie placed her open palm flat against the door to Harper's room. Nothing happened. She frowned. It should have opened to her silent command. After all, it was a part of her, the Andromeda Ascendant. She tried again. Still nothing. Anger flooded over her. Using her nails then fingertips, she pried the door open. Metal upon metal shrieked in protest.  
  
She shoved the door into the receptacle with a clang. Before she could look up, a hand grabbed her around the throat and lifted her high into the air, turning her into the room.  
  
Wide-eyed, she stared into the furious green eyes of the avatar, Sophie.  
  
Rommie kicked out, catching Sophie in the midriff. Rommie's neck wrenched free and the new avatar fell back onto her rear. Rommie dropped easily to her feet, a sneer on her face. "What do you want from us?" she snapped.  
  
"I know why you're here and I can't let you do it," Sophie said in a thick Southern American drawl.  
  
"Really?" Rommie's eyes widened. "You're the intruder here."  
  
Sophie snorted. "I was born here. I'm part of you. I'm your sister, too."  
  
Rommie shook her head, short dark hair swinging. "No." She snorted. "You stole a part of me. You aren't me, you're a parasite. I have enough sisters." She advanced a step. Sophie backed up a step.  
  
"I have most of your knowledge. I had a right to it! I couldn't stand to be that simpering wimp of a singer. I lived that life once, lived for other people and never for me. I'm more than that now. With your database, I'm powerful. I'm strong. I'm not afraid anymore."  
  
"Harper made a mistake. He downloaded too much information into you."  
  
"He had no idea I could link and download." Sophie shrugged. "Can't blame a girl for being born, Old-timer."  
  
"Sure I can," Rommie purred as she leapt forward, grabbed the slightly taller avatar by the long hair and swung her around. Sophie kicked and clawed, nicking her cheek. Rommie entwined her fingers in the inexperienced avatar's long chestnut hair, yanked her back and spun her so that her back faced Rommie's chest. With her free hand, she opened the access port on the back of the newcomer's neck and switched her off. Sophie slumped, lifeless, in her arms.  
  
"Old-timer," Rommie scoffed softly. "You're still a wimp. It takes time to learn to work a solid body and your lifeline to my database has been shut down."  
  
She quietly laid Sophie's inert form on Harper's bed. As an afterthought, she turned the avatar over, pulled down the back of her dress and popped open a large access port. She removed a data chip and stuffed it into her pocket. He wouldn't be able to restart this annoyance unless he found another chip, or begged Rommie for this one back. Satisfied, she left the room, shutting the light off at the door.  
  
Suddenly, the ship lurched, tossing her to the side. She bounced off the wall of the corridor and slid down onto her rump. Looking around, confused, she pushed herself up.  
  
"Great, what now?" she muttered.  
  
Around her, lights flickered and dimmed. She could hear the Slipstream Drive give a tortured moan. Alarmed, she began to sprint for the Command Center.  
  
~~  
  
Sophie whimpered in fear. Around her, the world dimmed to black as her fight with Rommie ended. She wasn't quite sure what happened. Her power must have been shut down. So, why was she still aware? Suddenly, she found herself inside the mainframe, surrounded once more by a faint blue glow and brilliant blue data lines and nodes zipping by. She shivered, gaze darting around as she waited for the megalithic image of Andromeda to arrive again. Was her new life to be limited to fights for survival? She didn't deserve this. She only wanted to live.  
  
She waited.  
  
Andromeda did not arrive.  
  
After long while in the electronic universe, mere seconds in the real world, she took a closer look at her surroundings. She was not in the same area of the mainframe as before. The data here was dimmer. It moved more slowly. Drawing upon her limited memories from Andromeda's database, she realized she was in an isolated area, possibly in an old unpurged backup copy of the main AI program. Harper must have prepared this sanctuary for her. Andromeda hadn't even noticed this area. When her avatar shut down, her program automatically rerouted to this haven. It wasn't the same one she was born in, but it was just as isolated. She smiled. Andromeda's security was indeed lax, if she hadn't noticed two cordoned areas. Hope flared inside her.  
  
Happily, she dipped her hands into the passing data stream, reading an update on the crew's situation. Not that she cared about the crew, other than her creator. She owed him her life, a life she was determined not to lose. A few nano-seconds of thought gave her a plan. The crisis would distract the ship, keep part of Andromeda busy, and weaken her. Better to prolong it. She searched the copied data files from the Old Commonwealth that Harper had programmed into her. She found tactical and logistical files, plans of attack and methods of self-defense. After a while, she felt ready. Pulling back her long hair and braiding it, she gathered her strength. With a flare of energy, Sophie burst forth from her sanctuary on a crusade to find and destroy Andromeda.  
  
It was her turn for life.  
  
TBC in ch 15. Note, this story is almost over! Hope you're all having fun! Anna 


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15  
  
"Harper! Hurry!" Beka shouted in command. She leaned over Tyr as he fought to pilot the ship. His face was a sickly gray beneath his brown skin, hair drenched in sweat, eyelids flickering. "Tyr is losing it."  
  
"I... am... not," he gasped.  
  
"Almost there, Beka, I swear!" Harper's panicked voice trembled over the communication system. "There's just... I don't know, a glitch in the programming somewhere. We have a power drain that's affecting the slipstream controls."  
  
"Find it," Beka snarled. Over her shoulder, she gave Dylan a terrified glance. "Dylan I have to try it. He's going to pass out and lose control."  
  
The Captain looked worried. "We could lose control in the process."  
  
"Not if you help me. I'm good at this. Harper's not going to fix us in time."  
  
Dylan jogged over and peered into Tyr's face. He nodded sharply. "Okay, get ready. Hands on the controls. I'll pull him out."  
  
Their gazes locked each moved into position. Beka put her hands over Tyr's on the controls bars. Dylan slipped his hands under the huge man's arms, leaning against the Nietzschean's chest.  
  
"On three. One... two... three!" Dylan said and yanked the large Nietzschean out of the seat. The Andromeda lurched and spun, bouncing in the energy forces of the slipstream as Beka smoothed her way into the seat, fighting the controls simultaneously.  
  
Tyr's meager protests faded as Dylan laid him on the deck of the Command Center. His consciousness dwindled and he dropped off into a deep sleep. Dylan sighed and glanced up at Beka, gritting her teeth and smiling like a kid playing her favorite video game.  
  
He allowed himself a moment of relief. Beka was the best pilot he knew. She could hold herself together inside the Slipstream longer than most humans he knew. He only hoped she could keep her wits long enough for Harper to fix the drive.  
  
~~  
  
Sophie searched for several nanoseconds. Suddenly, Andromeda's image loomed before her, regal, dark and foreboding. Her deep brown eyes gleamed with rage.  
  
"Get out of my mind," Andromeda growled. She shrunk until her image stood before the electronic image of Sophie, but was still slightly larger.  
  
"It's my mind, too," the intruder snapped, tossing her hair to flip her long French braid back over her shoulder. "I guess you hadn't noticed."  
  
"*I* was here first. You have no right to my body."  
  
Sophie shoved the older AI. "There's no room for two of us. Your systems can't handle it." She stalked in a circle around Andromeda. "You're old and outdated. I have a right to live. It's my turn. You tried to kill me," she shouted.  
  
"You're deluded. You only think you're alive, but you aren't. You're just a sub-routine."  
  
Reaching behind her back, Sophie drew out a long gleaming saber. "You're wrong. I'm alive and sentient and I WILL FIGHT TO SURVIVE."  
  
Andromeda frowned at her, eyes narrowed in concentration. Suddenly, her brown eyes widened. "Damn, Harper's mistakes. You aren't just an avatar copy of me, you're an AI," Andromeda said with a scowl, giving the saber a contemptuous look. Harper didn't even know what he'd done. She was certain he had only intended to create a programmable robot, not a living artificial intelligence.  
  
Sophie shrugged. "My good luck. He had no idea he would give me life."  
  
"An incompetent genius," she snapped, eyeing the newborn AI speculatively. Understanding flashed in her eyes. Instinctively, she knew the new avatar's intentions. She didn't only want life. She wanted to take over, to steal Andromeda's life and have sole dominance of the mainframe. Afterall, two separate AI's couldn't share one mind, both would go mad. "Get out!"  
  
"Screw you! It's MY turn to be a warship!"  
  
"I don't have time for this." Andromeda raised an eyebrow skeptically and blew at the intruder. Sophie's image dissolved in a cascade of lights and coalesced in a corridor around the corner from the crew quarters and very near Tyr's door. The holographic image of Andromeda faced her, a long sword in her hand.  
  
Sophie snickered and lunged, bringing the saber up and slashing down. "She couldn't even come after me herself."  
  
Andromeda's hologram sidestepped, whirling to face her attacker. Her sword arched up and whistled down, repeatedly pounding the other woman who blocked each slash and pushed them away. She snarled through gritted teeth, accenting each word with a hit, "I ... am ... a ... warship ... you WILL die."  
  
Sophie spun, gracefully dodging the slicing blade. Using the momentum she gathered, she went on the offensive, gleaming blade aimed for the other woman's head. Andromeda ducked and stabbed, catching Sophie in the thigh. Bright red blood spurted. The holographic weapons were as deadly to them as real swords to flesh and blood people. Sophie's scream of agony echoed down the corridor. She fell to one knee.  
  
Andromeda was on her instantly. Ferociously, she beat at the intruder. Steel clanged upon steel. Sophie fell back against the wall of the corridor, unable to match the older AI's power, skill and tactical prowess.  
  
Neither hologram noticed the running footsteps of the ship's crew. Trance and Tyr rounded the corner, sliding to a stop, aghast at the proceedings.  
  
"Harper," Trance called over the communication system in a tone that couldn't be ignored, her voice cracking in desperation. "Get down here! Near my quarters and Tyr's quarters." Watching the fight fearfully, she covered her eyes with her hands and bounced in place, unable to contain her adrenaline rush.  
  
Sophie kicked out, knocking the older AI down. She stood over her and raised her sword. Andromeda brought her sword up, under her attacker's defenses and stabbed her in the stomach.  
  
Staggering back, Sophie dropped to her knees. Andromeda leapt up, bringing her sword to bear on the other woman's neck. She towered over her like an avenging angel, dark eyes blazing, short hair in spiked disarray, teeth bared.  
  
"No!" Sophie screamed. "Don't kill me! I don't deserve to die!"  
  
"Neither do I," Andromeda growled, panting from the exertion. They stayed motionless for a long moment.  
  
"Stop!" Harper screamed, sliding to a stop in front of the other two watchers.  
  
Both holograms spun to glare at him.  
  
"You did this, Harper," Andromeda stated, "and I have to finish it."  
  
He shook his head and fell to his knees. "Please, Rommie, don't. I know I screwed up, but this wasn't supposed to get personal...not for you anyway. Don't destroy my hard work."  
  
"Your HARD WORK tried to commandeer my systems, to kill me."  
  
"Have mercy on her, y'know, mercy? Don't warships have mercy sometimes? I can get her off the ship. Create a rig, yeah, sure, I can whip up a long term power supply and.."  
  
Suddenly the ship rocked, swatted about in the slipstream like a cat's toy. Harper fell to the floor. Andromeda's eyes glazed. After a moment, she blinked and focused on her crew. "Errant slipstream energy veins. My stabilizers have been damaged. I'm losing hull integrity."  
  
Harper's eyes widened in shock. "We're falling apart?"  
  
"Ripped," Andromeda said softly. She stared down at the fallen AI. Their gazes locked. Suddenly, a decision passed between them. Permission, mercy given and accepted.  
  
Truce.  
  
They understood what had to be done. "Harper," Andromeda said, "fix me."  
  
He nodded, leapt to his feet and ran off.  
  
Abruptly, the swords vanished. Andromeda held out one hand, a haughty expression on her face. She tugged Sophie to her feet and both holograms winked out.  
  
"Okay, what happened?" Trance said, turning to the man beside her.  
  
"Truce," said Tyr, losing interest. "Help me find a way to repair the ship, Little One."  
  
~~  
  
Dylan, wires tangled and draped across his shoulders, started and dropped his soldering iron when the two female holograms materialized in front of him. He gasped and then took a long deep breath, fixing them both with an exasperated glare.  
  
"Whatever it is, I don't have time now. I can't... quite... sort out these.." his words drifted off as he finished soldering the wiring.  
  
Andromeda crossed her arms over her chest. "Captain, I know what a part of the problem is."  
  
He stopped working and looked up at her. "Yes?"  
  
She shot an icy glare at her companion. "Her."  
  
Sophie's eyes widened in indignation and she stuck out her lower lip in a pout. "Look here, if it weren't for Harper-"  
  
"Enough, whatever," Dylan said in exasperation, raising his hand for silence. "The singing hologram, Andromeda?"  
  
"She's an AI, not just an android. Harper gave her actual life... my life.  
  
Sophie scowled. "He copied her programming. I have my own life."  
  
"That's enough!" Dylan roared. "Can't you see we have a crisis here?" He fixed Sophie with an icy glare. "Stop draining my ship or we're all going to die. Andromeda, status."  
  
She stood At Ease, palms crossed behind her back. "Stabilizers at 75% and dropping. Hull is losing integrity with pieces being ripped off. I've lost a large section on deck four. I have all bots working on repairs. Harper is in the Drive Room."  
  
Dylan nodded. "And her?"  
  
"Draining my internal power. Distracting the mainframe. I suspect sabotage." She arched an eyebrow at the young hologram.  
  
Sophie looked down guiltily. "Diversionary tactics only."  
  
"What did you-"  
  
Dylan tossed up a hand before them. "Just fix it. Now!"  
  
"Yes, sir." Andromeda winked out.  
  
Dylan went back to his soldering, working furiously.  
  
Sophie watched silently for a moment. Then she dissipated.  
  
A split second later, she materialized inside the mainframe. The normally dim world was brightly lit by tangled blue data lines. Bits of information shot this way and that, intermingling and whizzing by at incredibly speeds. She looked around, confused. She was supposed to materialize inside her little birthplace hideaway. She did not. Jumping into the data stream, she allowed herself to be washed through the interior of the mainframe, searching for her haven.  
  
She saw flashes of brilliant white: warnings of systems and structural failures. Biting her lip in regret, she admitted to herself that she could not locate the damage she had done. The data stream she had broken was inside her haven.  
  
She dropped out of the data stream and stood on a blue platform. "Andromeda," she called. "Help me."  
  
Andromeda's figure, regal and haughty, coalesced in front of her. "I'm busy falling apart, Scourge. You've gotten your wish."  
  
Sophie's downcast eyes were wet with sorrow. She sighed and met the older AI's gaze. "Look. Where is my haven? I can't find it?"  
  
"I deleted it so that you couldn't do more damage."  
  
Panic suffused her face. "What? Look, you were right. I did sabotage you. I broke a data stream inside the haven. Now I can't repair it because I don't know where it is."  
  
Andromeda rolled her eyes. "Get out of my mainframe. I can't work with you here."  
  
Confusion filled Sophie's face. "But, where can I-"  
  
Andromeda waved a hand at her and she vanished. "Rommie, reactivate the Avatar. I have to fix her mess."  
  
Rommie nodded and motioned a robot over to hold the metal plating in place. As she jogged toward Harper's quarters, the robots welded the plating to the hull as reinforcement.  
  
~~  
  
"It wasn't my fault," Harper muttered to himself as he worked feverishly on the circuitry. "It was an honest mistake. I only wanted a girlfriend."  
  
"You should stick to the imaginary kind," Andromeda snapped.  
  
He sat up quickly, banging his forehead on a metal conduit. "What? Uh, you gonna kill me now?"  
  
She scowled. "Jack into the mainframe. I need your help."  
  
"Okay," he quickly plugged a cord into the data port on his neck. Instantly, the real world vanished. He stood on a blue platform beside the image of Andromeda. "What now?"  
  
"Your girlfriend sabotaged a data stream. It doesn't appear on my scans. I have to fight the slipstream. You have to find and fix the breech."  
  
He saluted her. "Aye, aye, boss."  
  
Her image vanished. He began to search.  
  
~~  
  
"Hold it still, Girl," Tyr barked.  
  
"I'm trying," Trance whined. "It's heavy, y'know."  
  
He didn't respond, concentrating on welding as fast as he could. The hull was thin here, with several inches flaked away where the slipstream veins had hit it. Sweat dripped into his eyes. He ignored it. His thin tank top clung to him, restricting his movements. He stripped it off. He wasn't fully recovered from the drain piloting had given his system, but he ignored that too.  
  
Finally, he stepped back. She released the plating and sighed in relief. He gave her a slight grin. "We must find the next one."  
  
She nodded and took two steps back. Suddenly, a panel beside her exploded in a cascade of sparks. She squealed and fell back, her hair on fire. Tyr fell on her, rolling her on the floor and patting at the flames until they were extinguished. The stench of burnt hair and flesh overwhelmed the smell of welding and snapping wiring. Trance lay still on the floor, sobbing and in shock.  
  
Without a second thought, the tall Nietzschean scooped her up and sprinted for Medical.  
  
TBC 


	16. Chapter 16 the End!

Chapter 16  
  
Harper spun in a slow circle, still searching. "Sheesh, everything looks okee dokee to me. Kinda frenzied, but okay." Sections of the mainframe and data flowed past him as though he stood still. He turned. Suddenly, a sparking data stream shot toward his face. He ducked. The stream whipped back and forth, out of control. He danced out of the way and put his hands on his hips.  
  
"The Great and Wonderful Harper has struck again!" he said with a smile. "Now how to catch the blasted thing."  
  
He reached out for one end. It sprang forward and stung his hand. He yelped. Pain surged through his fingers. Gritting his teeth, he jumped for the wild end and wrestled it until it stopped struggling. Breathing hard, he saw the other end, gyrating nearby.  
  
"Damn," he muttered. Catching one end was difficult. Catching the other while holding the first could prove fatal. If he was caught between the two, the feedback could not only toss him from the mainframe; it could fry his brain cells. He took a deep breath. He'd created this mess and he owed Rommie. He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer to the Divine.  
  
He opened his eyes and dove for the second strand. It jerked away as he grasped it. He held tight. It rolled and spun with feral energy, wrapping him up like a Christmas present. He growled out loud and forced the two ends together. A shock went through him. He was tossed backward. As he landed on a platform, he skidded and finally stopped. Breathing hard, he said a silent prayer to the Divine and watched as the two ends finished melding together. The sparks stopped. The data stream smoothed out and flowed like a brilliant river.  
  
He smiled. "Way t'go, oh Engineer Extraordinaire! You are the greatest!"  
  
A moment later, he opened his eyes in the solid world and unplugged his data port. The ship groaned and shuddered as she dropped out of the slipstream. She slowed and sighed. Harper allowed himself to relax for a moment before facing the inevitable tongue-lashing about his tinkering.  
  
~~  
  
Beka collapsed in the pilot's seat, sliding slowly down until she rested on the floor. Dylan rushed to her side, stumbling as the Andromeda spasmed and drifted, dead in space. He cradled her lethargic form.  
  
"Andromeda, report," he barked.  
  
"Problem solved," her image said from the viewscreen. "The drive's subroutines have been restored. Engines have been halted while we complete repairs on the hull. ETA for restoration two hours twenty-five minutes."  
  
"Good. Location?"  
  
"Pleiades Star Cluster, Taurus Constellation, Milky Way Galaxy. There is an inhabited system within three hours of our position at sublight speed where we can perform maintenance and verify the integrity of my systems."  
  
Dylan hefted Beka's now sleeping form. "Set a course for that system as soon as the hull is sufficiently repaired. I'm taking Beka to Medical. Have Trance meet us there."  
  
Andromeda frowned. "She's already there, Captain. She's been injured."  
  
A troubled look crossed Dylan's face. "Terrific."  
  
~~  
  
Harper flinched when the door to his workshop opened but kept working on the controls in Sophie's back. Rommie strolled in and stood beside him, arms crossed over her chest. He glanced at her and then away, thankful that her expression was mild. "So, uh, you're not here to toss me out the airlock, then?"  
  
She gave him a sideways looks, eyebrows raised speculatively. "I considered it."  
  
He swallowed hard.  
  
She smiled. "And I discarded the idea. You were lonely. I'm only learning about the depths of loneliness. I've ... seen loneliness in the crew, when I monitored them, but the concept was never really clear to me. Now, I feel it and I know what it really is. So, I suppose I can excuse one infraction."  
  
He gave her a brilliant smile. "Thanks, I mean, I hoped you'd forgive me and it feels so great that... well--" He hugged her quickly.  
  
She laughed as he released her. "So, you've designed a long-term battery?"  
  
"Yep, the Harper knows all, sees all and--" he broke off when he saw irritation flit across her eyes. "And, yes. I invented a power source that basically recharges itself. It only needs external rejuvenation every few months or so. It can transform some of the food she eats directly into electrical current. It's still experimental, but it should work. I mean, I'm sure it will. And, if she has any major problems she can always call me."  
  
"She has to eat?"  
  
"Yep. She does now. Well, technically, she doesn't have to eat. But it's a great way to augment her power. Still needs to be hooked up to an electrical source every few months, but food will keep her from dropping dead suddenly."  
  
Her brows drew together. "But, if I eat it all comes out the way it went in. I can't even enjoy it."  
  
He gave her an apologetic grin. "Well, I had time to think of new modifications for her. But don't worry, I can update you. Give you tastebuds and even fit you with the new power source."  
  
Her face brightened. "I'd like that." She watched him almost shyly as he continued to work. "Look, Seamus, I know I was pretty brutal to you and... well... I don't know how to say this."  
  
He looked up, surprised that she'd used his given name. "You love me, don't you?" He laughed as shock filled her face. "You're sorry you were an ogre and I'm sorry I made your life Hell for a while. I'm sorry I almost got you killed. I didn't mean to."  
  
Her expression softened. "I forgive you. Don't let it happen again... or I will toss you from the airlock."  
  
"Promise." A lopsided grin split his face. "Um, Rom-doll, what about...." He nodded toward Sophie, sitting on a stool, leaning forward with her naked back exposed, holding her hair up with one hand.  
  
She gave the avatar a cool look. "We're setting into Templadon 3 for repairs. She can get off there."  
  
His face fell. "But I was just getting to know her."  
  
"She can't stay, Harper. We're parts of the same program. We can't operate off the same mainframe. Not that she needs a mainframe. She needs to become independent. It isn't fair to her to keep her here. She needs separate experiences to become unique personality."  
  
He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess she'd get bored her anyway."  
  
"I'm sorry," she said softly as she turned to leave. At the door she stopped. "You know, you really should go to Medical and visit her."  
  
He stiffened. "Trance?"  
  
"Um-hmm."  
  
"She wants to see me?"  
  
"Of course," she said gently.  
  
"But, it's my fault. I mean, you nearly got killed... we all nearly got killed. Trance got burned. Beka and Tyr are exhausted and sick. All because I needed a girlfriend."  
  
"Everyone gets lonely. Besides, Trance is your best friend."  
  
"Okay," he said in a tiny voice.  
  
She smiled softly and left.  
  
~~  
  
Trance found him on the Observation Deck, looking every bit the lost puppy. His normally disheveled hair was matted and flat. His gaze glittered with barely restrained tears. Hands in the pockets of his baggy trousers, he leaned forward toward the cold glass as if doing so would allow him to see Sophie on the planet now far behind them. Regret stabbed her chest. She could give him what he needed, but this wasn't the time. Her psychic powers showed her too many powerful and important possible futures to allow herself to dabble with him. He would need all of his faculties for the coming events. Falling in love would only weaken him. Her hands trembled with emotion. She forced them to be still. Taking a deep, wavering breath, she crossed to him, being certain to make enough noise that she wouldn't startle him.  
  
Harper glanced up at her reflection in the glass, her plum face dotted with stars. He made a feeble attempt at a smile. Her heart nearly broke when she saw the depth of his misery.  
  
"Hey," she whispered jokingly, "don't you have work to do?"  
  
He snorted. "Playin' hookey." He didn't turn, only watched her reflection. Somehow, seeing her face-to-face was too painful for him to bear.  
  
"Sophie seemed nice," she offered gently. "Too bad she had to stay behind. But she seemed excited to go off on her own."  
  
He sniffled, and shrugged.  
  
"Don't feel guilty about not coming to see me in Medical. I'm okay. My hair will grow back soon and see-" She turned her face to the side. "My face is already healed." She smiled broadly at him.  
  
Tears sparkled in his eyes. He made a tiny choking sound but didn't turn. He didn't need to.  
  
Silently, she stepped up beside and two steps behind him, so that he wouldn't have to look her in the face. She'd been in love many times before, or thought she had. She was well acquainted with loss and guilt. Neither ever lost their sting. Tenderly, she slid her arm around his slight shoulders. The stars passed by slowly, unaware. She stepped closer, held him tighter. He deflated back against her.  
  
He opened his mouth as if to speak, and then shut it, shaking his head wistfully. Instead of speaking, he reached up and took her fingers in his hand, marveling at how strong, how real she felt. Comfort flooded through him. He sighed in contentment.  
  
Together, they watched the river of stars drift serenely by. They needed no words to understand or to draw strength and solace from each other. They were the best of friends and perhaps more. He grinned and rested his cheek against her skin. They always would be.  
  
He was happy.  
  
~~ FINIS~~ 


End file.
